#and im using this pen today and it makes me happy

[lookwhatyoumademelou]

went to a cool independent bookstore in Nashville last year and yes i did get this pen bc it is 💙💚🥰

[whisp3roftheheart]

I really am the most embarrassing person when I like someone lmao

[pinkslipxox]

Hey there my love! I have a request. Sorry if it isn't that good.

We’re a bartender at the local bar where Billie lives, and it's been a rough day for us. We’re not in the best mood—until we spot a stunning woman sitting at the bar: Billie.

Curious, we make our way over to chat with her and soon learn that she’s only there because a few of her friends dragged her out for the night—even though she doesn’t drink. Despite that, we immediately hit it off, sharing laughs and good conversation. By the end of the night, we’ve even got her number!

hey my love! Omg i love it! Hope you like it 🥰

——————————————————————————

The bar is finally calm after what feels like an endless wave of orders, drinks flying in every direction, and customers getting restless. You take a deep breath, leaning against the counter as you wipe sweat from your brow. It was one of those nights—where every cocktail seemed to come with a side of chaos. You grimace at the memory of spilling an entire margarita on a customer and fumbling a couple of orders. Your mood definitely reflects the calamity of the shift, and you let out a soft sigh, wishing for a moment of peace.

As you glance around the dimly lit bar, your eyes land on a small group laughing and joking at a table near the back. That’s when you spy her— a beautiful young woman with blonde hair and captivating crystal blue eyes. You feel a little flutter in your chest, even though part of you thinks it might just be from exhaustion.

When the woman catches your eye, she smiles, and suddenly, all the frustration from the night fades a bit. You can’t help but smile back, even though you try to shake off the nerve that’s creeping its way up your spine.

“Hi! What can I get for you?” you ask, the professional mask slipping back into place, even though your heart races a little.

“Honestly? Just a water, please. Im trying to stay hydrated,” she chuckles lightly, and her laughter feels warm and inviting.

“Coming right up,” you say, filling a glass with ice water. As you set it in front of her, you can’t shake the feeling of her gaze lingering on you, as if she notices the way your shoulders have slumped and how your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “How’s your night going?”

“It could be better,” she replies with a slight grin. “But my friends insist on dragging me out. They just don’t get how much I love just chilling at home. What about you? You’ve got that ‘I’ve been through the wringer’ look,” she teases playfully.

You laugh, a genuine sound this time. “Yeah, it’s been one of those shifts. Busy as hell, and I’ve messed up a couple of orders,” you admit, shrugging as you pour yourself a drink of your own.

“Hey, it happens to the best of us. Don't be too hard on yourself,” Billie reassures you, leaning in slightly as if she’s sharing a secret. “You’re still standing, right?”

For some reason, the way she speaks makes you feel a little lighter. “True! I guess that counts for something,” you say, smirking a little more.

“Totally,” the woman chuckles in agreement. “I’m Billie. What’s your name?” She outstretches her hand and you shake it.

“My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you, Billie,” you reply enthusiastically.

And just like that, Billie begins to draw you into a conversation that feels easy and effortless. You talk about everything—music, your favorite drinks, even a little about her life in the spotlight. There���s something about her presence that makes you feel seen and understood, like you’re two friends catching up rather than a bartender and a customer having a brief encounter. And you find yourself genuinely happy to be in her presence.

“So, what are you doing after this?” Billie asks, tilting her head, curiosity dancing in her eyes.

“Probably crawling into bed and hoping tomorrow is better than today,” you reply with a chuckle. “Not exactly a glamorous life.”

Billie smiles. “You know… I had a great time talking to you.” She then takes out a pen and writes on the napkin. With a glimmer of hope in her eyes, she slides it over to you, and you see that she’s written her number on it. “You should call me sometime, I would love to see you again. Maybe even go out to dinner?”

Your eyes widen, disbelief mingling with delight. “You want me to text you? Like, really?” you stammer, still trying to comprehend the gesture.

“Absolutely,” Billie responds, her tone reassuring. “I mean it. Text me anytime you need to vent about spills or chaotic shifts or even if you just want to grab coffee or something.”

You feel an exhilarating mix of emotions—nervousness, excitement, and maybe a hint of disbelief. “I... I will for sure.”

Billie grins, the softness of her expression warming your heart. “Good. I’m looking forward to it,” she says before standing and leaning over to give you a quick hug, her arms wrapping around you like a snug safety net. You practically melt against her, her scent—a mix of something floral and the faintest hint of vanilla—overwhelmingly calming.

As she pulls back, you both share a lingering gaze, and in that moment, nothing else matters. The night, the spills, the chaos—all of it fades away, leaving just the two of you in this fleeting, beautiful connection.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Billie says, a softness in her voice that makes your insides flutter.

“Yeah, will do. And you too,” you reply, watching as she walks away, a lightness in her step that makes you grin.

With her number securely in your pocket and the memory of her warmth lingering, you can’t help but feel that maybe tonight wasn’t so bad after all.

[the-offside-rule]

Fernando Alonso (McLaren era) - Envious pt.2

A part 2 to Envious

Fernando walked into the paddock on the Thursday for his usual media stuff. His PR manager had brought him around, filling him I on what questions most interviewers would be asking him. Whilst they walked into the interviewing area, glancing around for Y/n. He was quite desperate to see her. He found himself having to watch her past interviews just to make the feeling of missing her go away. How could be miss her? He wasn't even with her? They weren't exactly on speaking terms. "Can we start with ITV?" He asked, eager to see Y/n. "Just get it over with? Of course." They made their way over to ITV. Fernando looked up, expecting to see Y/n but instead seeing a different girl. He crossed his arms, a confused look on his face. "Where is Y/n?" He asked. "You'll be happy to learn, she has a segment to do with Lewis for ITV." His PR manager told him, preparing her voice recorder. "No." He mumbled. "Pardon?"

"I won't do the interview for ITV unless it is Y/n asking the questions. Where is she?" The ITV production team exchanged uneasy glances. "I don't think she can change her segment, Fernando." One of them said. "I'll worry about that. I would like Y/n to interview me. We'll be back when Y/n is." He said walking away and leaving a few confused souls. Fernando went about doing his interviews but he kept glancing over at the ITV crowd, hoping he would see Y/n but each time he looked over, disappointment struck. Y/n was on the other side of the paddock, getting ready to start her segment when she got a call from her boss. "Im about to turn my phone off. I have to go do this segment." Y/n said as she answered the phone. "The segment can wait. You're needed in the interview pen." She couldnt believe the words being said to her. "I don't understand. Did Darcy just get up and leave?" She asked. "No, but Alonso is being specific about who is interviewing him and he'd like you to interview him." She chuckled. "Well, if only we were accommodating."

"We are. He's refusing to do interviews with us until you are back." She rolled her eyes. "He is so childish. He's just bored. Darcy will do." Y/n protested. "No, we need the Fernando interview." She threw her arms in the air. "It's an interview that will last two minutes! I worked so hard to get this Lewis interview!" She was near shouting at this stage. "Sleeping with the driver in question does not mean you worked hard for it." She felt her heart drop with those words. "I didn't and I won't ever sleep my way to where I want to go." She hung up and groaned.

ITV had been panicking, but eventually located Y/n, who seemed stressed and preoccupied and angry, which when interviewing Fernando became normal. Fernando turned to see her talking sternly to the girl that was interviewing. He hoped he didn't get her in trouble but at the end of the day, he finally got Y/n. He walked towards her, his PR manager following behind closely.

"Y/n." He said approaching Y/n. She didn't look up. "Fernando." She replied, engrossed in the papers she held. "What's wrong with my intern?" Y/n asked as Fernando walked towards her. "Too boring. I want a little fun in these things." He smiled. "And you are a child." She said, taking out her notebook and pen. As Y/n prepped for the interview, flicking through her countless pages, Fernando decided to begin his redemption (if you could call it that) and share a warm smile with her. "How are you today?" he asked, catching her off guard. She looked up confused. Stumbling over her words, she replied, "I'm... I'm good, thank you. How about you, Fernando?" He chuckled. "I'm doing well. I was worried you weren't going to interview me today." He said. "Believe me, I wanted the segment with Lewis but you pushed for me to interview you." He clenched his jaw. "That must has set me back a bit but I'm intrigued, why do you want me to interview you?" She asked. "You bring a smile to my face. How about that?" Y/n kept her skepticism. "Okay. Ready to roll?" She asked her camera man.

Confused but intrigued, Y/n began the interview. "Hello, Fernando. Its a new race week here in Malaysia. Are you hoping hoping to better than your P2 last race weekend?" She asked, trying to add a harshness in the fact he had P3. "Well, of course. The Race was difficult last week with Kimi doing so well in the Ferrari and obviously, as a driver you always have to strive to be the best at what you do. I feel like it would be the same for journalists which is why why are as highly regarded as you are." He smiled. Y/n pulled a face. Did he just....compliment her? What was he up to?

"Do you think that long-term, you could beat Ferrari in the constructors or even beat them to the driver championship?" Fernando took a deep breath in. "Well, it's always tricky to pin-point these things but I think I could get there with the help of McLaren and obviously my teammate." He replied. "Something tells me your teammate won't be as willing to help you as you think." She remarked. "Something or someone?" He joked, making the few people surrounding them laugh. She felt her face heat up at what he was implying. "Sorry, that was unprofessional, but to finish that question off, I think-" to her surprise, Fernando's apology was laced with genuine kindness and humility. The tension that usually filled the air between them dissipated, replaced by an unexpected camaraderie. She didn't entirely believe him, she still thought he was up to something but until she could put her finger on it, she had to bite her tongue.

"But yeah, if he wants to help me he can. It's not my job." He answered. "Thank you Fernando." She said, concluding the interview. "You seem pretty tense today." Fernando said. "Why are you still here?" She asked, handing her notebook to Darcy. "Can you please write this up for the article. Thanks." She brought her attention back to Fernando. "What? J thought you'd be happy to see me." She scoffed. "Yeah, right." Fernando thought for a moment. He didn't wanna leave her just yet, he wanted to talk to her more. He had gone ages without seeing her.

"How about a joke?" He offered. "What?" Was he serious? "What does a bee do in the gym?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Zum-ba." The camera crew looked at eachother confused. "It makes sense in Spanish. Because its like 'qué hace una abeja en el gimnasio?' Zum-ba! But in English it makes no sense." She found herself giggling along, knowing the joke since she spoke spanish. "I know, I know." She found herself laughing harder and harder at how bad the joke was and how Fernando explaining it somehow made it much funnier. "You're crying!" Fernando laughed, pointing at Y/n as she wiped her tears away.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you and I would share a laugh." She admitted. "Again." He said. Y/n looked at him bewildered. "What?" She asked. "Well we have shared laughs before so you never thought you'd see the day we would share a laugh again." She smiled, reminiscent of her first ever motorsport interview, back when Fernando was in Minardi. "I'm surprised you remember that far back." She smiled. Fernando grinned. "Life is full of surprises, isn't it?" Y/n nodded. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" Fernando smiled and agreed. "What's with the sudden change? We've had our fair share of clashes in the past and now you're refusing to answer to anyone other than me."

Fernando tried to think of an answer that didn't completely include the truth but still add a hint or two. "Sometimes, it's good to leave the past behind and start anew. Besides, life is too short for unnecessary feuds." He said, stretching his hand out. "Hopefully, we can just be friends now." He said. Y/n reluctantly took his hand and shook it before he bid farewell to everyone and left, leaving confused souls behind.

That evening, Y/n had to rewrite Darcy's work which led to a late night, and a lot of coffee. As she was writing, she heard her phone ringing, eith the caller ID of 'The Boss' on it. She answered, holding in yawn. "Hello?" She questioned, still writing away. "I didn't expect you to be awake at this time." He said. "Well, you know me. I'm always up late for work." She said, a hint of bitterness still in her voice from their earlier conversation. "Yes, well I'm calling became McLaren gave me a ring. Your segment with Lewis can be done tomorrow after qualifying." She smiled. "Aw, he's a gem for reorganising it." She chuckled. "It wasnt Lewis." She knotted her eyebrows in confusion. "Was it his PR people?"

"No actually. It was Fenrnado." She stopped writing. "Fernando?" Fernando had rescheduled it. "He said he felt bad about pulling you away from the segment with Lewis. The marketing team over there are not happy about Fernando giving them an earful this evening so I'd say go over and just thank them." Her boss said. "An earful?"

"Yes, he said bugging them all evening to fit you in for your segment. You're all about the questions today." She nodded along. "Yeah, yeah. I- mmh. Perks of being an interviewer. Look, I'll call you back tomorrow. In just finishing this up for the weekend preview. I'll send it on over when it's done." She said hanging up the phone and looking out her window into nothing. What alternate dimension was she in that Fernando was so nice? Did he hit his head or something? What was with him. It was weird, it was strange.

The day after, Fernando was walking into the paddock. His trainer had gone in before him but since Fernando forgot his pass he had to run back to the car and grab it quickly. "Fernando!" He turned, expecting to see a fan but instead spotted Y/n, jogging towards him. "Ah, good morning, Y/n." He smiled. "How are you, my friend?" He asked as she caught up. "I"m good, you?" She asked. "I'm doing good. Thank you." He replied. "Um, I just wanted tk say thank you for rescheduling that interview." She said. "Oh, that was nothing. It was simply a thank you for interviewing me and changing your plans up." He turned to face her. "It's what friends do." He scanned his pass and let her go in first, before scanning his own pass. "So, are you looking forward to your interview with Lewis?" He asked as they walked in the paddock. "I'm not with Lewis." She said. He looked at her, a grin on his face. "I didn't say you were. I said-"

"I know, but everyone thinks im with Lewis. My boss even thinks I slept with him but-" She paused. "I don't know why I told you. I'll go." She said quickly. "Wait, wait. We'll since you are not eith Lewis and I am most definitely not with anyone-" Y/n looked as her face turned red from embarrassment. "How about we head out after the race. Just as friends, nothing more." A smile tugged at her lips, before she agreed. "Very good, I'll be seeing you around." Fernando smiled, and disappeared into the McLaren hospitality while Y/n walked around as muddled as the day before.

[boogersparkles]

NOTES ♡

Yuuka hirasaka x gn!reader

Summery: You drown yourself with work and you won't listen to any of Yuuka's concerns! So she finds a solution

Genre: Light angst w/ comfort, happy ending, romantic

Warnings: Unhealthy eating habits, working to the point of passing out

Words: 2278~

Notes: Hiii!! I was thinking about maybe writting more fanfics for the rest of the yuus if anyone's intrested. Im still new to writting so constructive critisism is welcomed :)

The past week had really been exhuasting. Lately, Crowley has been shoving paperwork after paperwork in your hands even though you had just fought another overblot. Yuuka was badly injured, so you had to take care of of all the work that Crowley wasn't bothered to do. You had eyebags from the countless all-nighters that you pulled to catch up on the missed assignments for alchemy... math.. wait, didn't you have a history test tomorrow? Shit, you completly forgot.

"What time even is it?"

You look up at the clock hanging above your desk.

12:03

"Yeah i could squize another hour"

You get up to grab another energy drink, the floorboards squicking with every step, nearly slipping on the last step of the stairs you make your way towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge door, you crouch down to grab a can.

"Damn, this is my last one... I'm gonna need to buy more tomorrow"

"Absolutely not."

You jump at the sound of a stern voice. Turning to your left you see Yuuka crossing her arms while leaning on the side of the counter, you also didn't miss the disaproving look on her face that held concern for your well being.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"During Trein's class because I probably passed out"

Her face scrunches up with discomfort, not being able to tell wether you were being serious or joking. Not that there was something to laugh at.

"Did you even eat anything today?"

"A sandwich"

"You're telling me that you went through the whole day without eating anything but that sandwich from the morning?!"

"Eeh.. you eat like a king for breakfast?"

"Oh please, what kind of king eats a small sandwich for breakfast?"

Okay she had a point, but the stress was getting to you and you needed to get back to studing for that history test.

"Listen Yuuka, if you have nothing better to say then I'm going back to my room. Goodnight"

Before she could respond you get up and storm out of the kitchen, dashing towards your room, not giving her a chance to even call out your name. Guilt starting to eat you up as you go back to studying.

You're definetly not gonna sleep well.

Yuuka just stood there, starting into empty space, contemplating wether she used the right words to aproch you. She knew you were stressed but you just closed yourself off in your room, she offered help but you always waved her off, worried about her injuries from the last overblot.

Fine, if you don't want to listen she won't force you, but she will get in that little head of yours one way or another.

She goes upstairs, walking up to the door of your room. She knocks gently but there's no response, entering your room she finds you laying on your desk, the exhuastion probably caught up to you. Sighing softly she picks you up carefuly to not wake you up and tucks you into bed, she glances at the scattered books and notes on your desk. All day you were sucked up by those, not letting anything distance you from them, even declining an invitation to an unbirthday party without hesitation, making Ace and Deuce worry as well.

Looking closer, she sees bold words that say "HISTORY TEST ON MONDAY". She picks up a pen with her bandaged hand, writting some cheat notes for you on small pieces of paper and stuffing them into your pencilcase.

That's when it came to her.

If you didn't want to listen to her words, you will just have to read them!

Monday came, to your surprise you wake up in your bed, too used to the hard wood of your desk it feels weird to not have your back ache like an 80 year old grandpa's for once.

While getting dressed you remember your little fight with Yuuka, anxiety creeping up on you, wondering how to apologize her. Guess you'll apologize when you see her, IF you see her actually, because Crowley had more work for you to do despite having a test on the same day.

You barely make it to first period, thankfuly Crewel seemed to be late as well, so you go to your group with Ace, Epel and.... Yuuka who wasn't present.

"Morning guys"

"Woah, looks like one of the Halloween decorations came to life Haha- OW"

Ace gets roughly nudged at his side by Epel in a way to say without words "This is not the time for jokes"

"How very nice of you Ace" You say monotonously.

"But on a serious note are ya doing okay?"

"I'm fine, there's just a shit ton of work I have to do"

Both of them didn't comment on that, knowing full well just how tired you are by looking at your slummed posture.

"By the way, where's Yuuka? I haven't seen her at all today"

"She was here a while ago, but she said that she forgot something and just bolted out of class in a hurry"

That's odd... Yuuka isn't the type of person to just forget things like that.

While waiting for Crewel to arrive busting through the door comes Crowley who's waayyyy too excited to see you.

"My, my, why isn't it our dearest Prefect!"

"I thought Yuuka was the Prefect" Epel wispered to you

"I have a couple jobs for you to do!"

"But you said that you wouldn't need me until third period!"

"I did say that but it's different now. Come along! There is no time to watse!"

Aaaaaand there he goes, out the window.

Again.

You put your hands on your face and start groaning like you lost the lotery for the tenth time in a row.

" Can you guys watch my stuff? Since i won't be able to take it with me"

"Sure no problem.."

You leave your items and make it out of the classroom. But when you left, Yuuka had just gotten in.

"Hey where were you?"

"I was just getting something... wait, are those-?"

"The workacholic's stuff? Yeah, they just left"

"Oh perfect!"

She opens your pencilcase and shoves some more notes in it.

"What are those?"

"Cheat notes"

"Heyy! You never make those for me!"

"Yeah because they actually NEED these" She says as she shoots Ace a glare

They don't push further and just let her do as she pleases.

After leaving Crowley's office you find Deuce holding your things, waiting for you.

"Hey!.. How was work?"

"Awful."

Deuce akwardly shuffles his feet, not knowing how to comfort you.

"Well... Trein said that you can write the test next period with class 1-D and leave early today"

"Wait. Are you for real?!"

"Yeah! Anyway I gotta go so bye! And good luck!

Deuce shoves all your things in your arms and makes a run for it.

Why was he in such a rush? Class starts in 15 minutes, it was almost like he was hiding something. Looking down at your hands, you see a lunch box with a bright yellow sticky note on the top that said..

"Eat well and good luck on your test! :)"

Thank the heavens above because you were STARVING. You walk towards class 1-D it was a bit far from Crowley's office but you had time to eat. Entering the classroom, you find Trein and some other students including Sebek. Grabbing a test sheet you go to the very back and sit next to Sebek.

" I see that you have chosen to finish early human!"

Surprisingly Sebek's voice was slightly above average volume, unlike the usual roaring.

"Yeah.. I'm just gonna fail the test early and go straight to bed..?"

Multiple colored notes fill your pencilcase and... They're enough to give you a passable grade! But.. who wrote these? Whatever, you just want to get this over with

While you wrote away Sebek noticed how you constantly looked away to copy the answers, but he didn't rat you out, in fact he acted like nothing was happening

The bell rings and you hand over your test to Trein. While you were walking down the hall you accidently bump into a student.

"Oh sorry! Wait. This fell from your pocket"

Handing you the letter he leaves you confused. Since when did you carry this? And where did it even come from? Opening it, you find a note and... A discount for the Monstro Lounge?! Completely baffeled you read the note inside....

"Hey! I know how hard you've been working lately and I wanted to make sure you took proper care of yourself. So here's a little gift from me to you! :)

You don't have to go through everything alone. If you ever need help or a shoulder to cry on, I'll always be here for you ♡

- Love, Yuuka"

OF COURSE IT WAS YUUKA ALL ALONG.

And you didn't even see her to apologize today!

It all made sense now. Why Yuuka was missing during alchemy, why Deuce ran away in a hurry, why Sebek didn't snitch on you. Because it was all part of Yuuka's plan.

Making your way to the Monstro Lounge you can't stop thinking about Yuuka, she goes out of her way just to make you happy. You'll buy something for her too, you sort owe her for well, everything. For carrying anything too heavy for you, for defending you when you were in danger, for comforting and holding you close to her heart to sooth you whenever you had a nightmare...

Your chest tightens up just by the thought of everything she has done.

You get the cheesebuger for yourself and for Yuuka the steak from today's special menu.

For always making you feel special.

Finally you made it back to Ramshackle, taking off your shoes, you notice that the couch has more pillows than usual and a big fluffy blanket, on the top of it there was yet again another note.

"Hi sugar! I hope you feel more relaxed from yesterday, found you passed out on your desk last night so I got some extra pillows for you. You can take the next two days easy, I managed to threaten convince Crowley to do his own work.

Take care - Love Yuuka"

Like the other notes the handwritting was a bit sloppy due to still having those bandages on her hand so you couldn't recognize who's writting it could be, you also couldn't think straight with everything going on, giving you no time to even wonder about those notes. It's insane how much Yuuka fills your day despite not seeing her at all, you really started to miss her too but for now you'll just have to wait until she returns.

After leaving her share of food on the kichen island, you put on a movie and pull the blanket over you as you sit cross-legged on the couch with your cheeseburger on your lap. Yuuka will come home in 35 minutes, you might as well enjoy the movie, though you can't help but occasionaly look at the time, waiting like a little puppy.

Finishing your burger, you start to feel a bit drowsy, putting the empty countainer on the coffee table, you lay down cacooning yourself with the fluffy blanket. Yuuka is ten minutes late but you know that she will come home shortly.

Your eyelids start to feel heavy, you can take a short nap for a minute or two.

"Are you still sleeping?"

You catch the sound of soft wispering but you don't say anything. Sensing the couch sink, you also hear shifting

"Grim, don't wake them up"

A familiar voice hits your ears, somehow the sterness it carries is also familiar.

You feel a gentle hand graze your cheek, pushing aside some strands fo hair along with it.

And then...

A soft kiss on you forhead.

Your cheeks start to heat up and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. Slowly opening your eyes, you see Yuuka kneeling with one knee up right next to you and Grim snuggling up against your stomach.

"Sorry, did i wake you up?"

"No, I woke up myself" you lied sleepily.

Let's be honest, you wouldn't be able to sleep peacefuly after that kiss.

"How was your day today?" She asked, resting her chin in her palm.

"It was... less tiring than the past few days"

"Did you eat anything from the Monstro Lounge?"

"I ate a cheeseburger. Did you find the steak I got for you?"

"Mhm, it was delicious"

Sitting up from your position, the blanket fall off of you as you lean in to hug her, resting your arms on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you last night. I didn't mean to... I was just...."

Struggling to find your words, Yuuka finishes your sentense for you.

"Just too tired to properly function? Yeah, i know. I'm glad you finally got some rest"

She says as she caresses your back softly, her touch lingering, holding more care than you can ever imagine

Your eyeshight blurs up a bit, but you're grateful for always having Yuuka by your side

"Come on, don't go tearing up on me now. Why don't we watch that movie you had put on?"

Leting go of her, you push aside some pillows to make space as she goes to dim the lights. Sitting down next to you, you lean your head on her shoulder, letting her hand rest on your waist as Grim jumps in your lap.

You felt relief, happy and complete. As if Yuuka was the rain and sun to your flower, the last piece to your puzzle. She means eveything to you and you're well aware that she recipercates those feelings too.

Bonus:

"Wait, don't you have homework to do?"

"Eeeh.. I'll do it later"

She ended up making cheat notes for herself with your help.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

The Tragedy of What Was (pt. 2)

masterlink

A/N: yeah no yall im alive yet have no life (school and life are coming for me). im so sorry it's literally been MONTHS but uhm here is whatever this is. Transaltions are at the end for the german words (pls dont kill me i used google translate) pls pls let me know your thoughts:)

warnings: unintended self harm, allusions to depression, bad grammar and spelling.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Wistful wind caressed your strands as it fleeted through your hair. The Geneva winds were kind on the sunny day as you sat on the cherry brown bench. Pen and leather-bound journal in hand, the words on your page turned blurry when your focus shifted.

The new metropolitan park was not too busy during the midday, which was likely the cause of your attention shift. A few feet in front of your feet, a deep charcoal grey pigeon rested awkwardly due to its pain in its left wing. The angle of the wing was unnatural, but you knew not from vision but feel. The alignment of the bones was all wrong, and it pierced through the status quo of the bird's natural gravity. Quiet, weeping chirps were all the poor creature could manage.

Your grip on your journal tightened as you focused on the world and air around you. A breath in, and it felt like surfing on smooth liquid; you felt all the slight crevices and edges of the snapped bones in the pigeon’s wing. A breath out, paired with a sharp call of pain, and the wing was returned to its natural state. You watched as its yellow beady eyes scanned in amazement while it flapped its wings over and over again, testing out the sudden fix.

Within a few moments, the small creature trusted your care enough to take flight, a successful venture that brought a satisfied smile to your lips. Even if small, it brought you a special kind of warmth to know you helped just one living creature live life a little easier. You didn't interact much with people, so your "patients" were often the concerning amount of injured animals who occupied the various cities across the globe you were dragged along to.

It was an odd life you walked in. Your days were spent in peaceful parks, calm cafes, and buzzing bookshops. So surrounded by life, yet you felt you lacked one of your own. Your train of thoughts was starting to buzz in a headache, but you were never good at regulating yourself as the spiral began. The years of a singular chase — Sebastian Shaw — were coming to an end as each lead got you and Erik oh so close. A thought that should have made you happy but only had your body feel unbearable with the weight of your anxiety about the future. You had no proper education as your childhood was spent moving from place to place. Those days after the camps.

The breath you were seemingly holding let itself out in a painful escape. You needed to clear your mind of such consuming thoughts or at least do it in a fashion that did not play into your body's instinct to cause self-agony. The more you tried to stop, the more the pain in your skull intensified. Flashes of knives, sounds of buzzing, and hands — crack! One tiny little burst in the rough surface of your skull. A pattern that would have likely continued if not for the rough voice breaking you out of the tunnel of misery you were sure to experience.

"And how many birds have to thank you today?"

Erik's impressive height had you turning your head upwards, ignoring the pain raging through your head. He wasn't ignorant to your tendencies, but rather the intensity of the involuntary reactions. So you tried your best to hide it behind a smile and harshly crinkled eyes hidden behind a chic pair of white sunglasses.

"I'm not one to keep count, but if you must know... four. I'm starting to get concerned about how many I've had to help out."

You get off the bench and walk beside your older brother as he lightly scoffs at your response. You quickly pack away your very light leather-bound notebook, the mass you manipulated a long time ago to make it easier to carry around.

"The reach of humanity's cruelty is not surprising."

Even behind the dark-lensed glasses and Erik looking forward towards the busy street, you made a show of rolling your eyes.

"All this talk, yet I don't see you protesting for birds' rights."

It was then his turn to roll his eyes as his rigid posture made its way across the newly paved crosswalk. He never said a word of where he was taking you two, but that wasn't a new aspect of your very complicated brother. You could only assume it was back to the hotel you rented out only yesterday so you could check out and travel to yet another place on your wild goose chase. The globe-trotting would have been endearing if it wasn't fueled and caged within the confines of brutal revenge. A revenge you have rarely taken part in as Erik deliberately left you behind on his deliberation missions.

You weren't bloodthirsty like Erik, not that you blamed him. He took the hits twice as hard, once for himself and once for you. Though he could not stop all the attacks; reality still drew its blood. Suddenly, you realized that Erik had yet to elaborate on his meeting with the Nazi associate at the bank. You stared at him expectantly. He couldn't feel glances and other movements as tangibly as you, but you knew this wasn't ignorance.

"So..."

The tall man took a short look to his left toward you to silence any pestering questions when he was taken aback.

"Are those new glasses?"

You ignored him swiftly, fighting the twitching need to adjust them. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"That's the third pair in a month, Y/N."

"Argentina. I've been saying this for how long?"

"Y/N." His tone was grave and pertinent, but you couldn't succumb. You didn't want to acknowledge the truth, so you kept up your mask of smugness.

"I think this confirms that I indeed do have a second mutation that lets me see the future."

All cheery brags were halted, as was the entirety of your body. You kept your eyes forward as your weak defense, in the form of the cream-colored cat-eye glasses, was swept away and pulled effortlessly into Erik's calloused fingers.

Trying and failing, you hissed in pain as the afternoon light burned through each river of blood splattering your eyes.

You hissed as the sunlight stung your eyes. In an instant, the intense light dimmed as your eyelids shut in an effort to protect your sensitive irises. You walked so perfectly and casually that no one would even realize you had no vision. The vibrant feeling of every object and organism called out, guiding you along the way. One good thing about shutting out the visual world was avoiding Erik's disapproving glare.

"Why are you wearing these?"

Eyes still shut, the invisible strings pulling on every fighting molecule tugged the now slightly broken accessory. It was incorrectly angled, a problem likely caused by Erik's careless and harsh grip. You really liked that pair. Though that wasn't much of the reason why frustration began swirling in your heavy sighs.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the little fact that my eyes are blood-busted? Who would have thought having nerves that self-explode would cause some sensitivity!" you grumbled. "Stop thinking I'm ashamed of my mutation, Erik. My injury makes me sensitive, and while the sun burns the normal retina, it boils me alive. It's a shield from the sun, not my identity. Like I've been explaining for the past decade."

You muttered the last part, feeling a slight insecurity. Over the years, your vision had cleared up, but you still had the scars. Swirling snakes of crimson still slithered in your glassy orbs, even all these years later. Your body and mind grew, yet those eyes remained the same. A symbol of a scared little girl. One who couldn't hurt a fly but could shatter each one of her bones in an instant.

Erik huffed as if he didn't fully believe you, which he likely didn't. He doubted the only thing bothering you about your eyes was the pain and not what caused it. "Something is still bothering you. Your eyes have been more sensitive than usual, isn't that so? You keep breaking glasses."

You opened your mouth to argue when he hit you with an argument you couldn't deny.

"The air around you is suffocating at night when I come back or wake up early. Like when we first left the camps."

You felt your heavy breaths settle uncomfortably in your paused lungs. Swiftly, the fashionable glasses were back on your pretty face. They were only a centimeter crooked. A lone tear protruded from your lacrimal and slid solemnly down your cheek. Erik felt the atmosphere becoming colder, even though there had been no shift in the general temperature. He knew you wanted the conversation to end, but you couldn't keep ignoring whatever was eating you alive because, one of these days, it would physically crush you. Your emotions had been playing roulette with your psyche and connected body for far too long to keep getting empty bullets.

The looming hotel leered from above you as you walked through the shiny revolving door effortlessly. Your strides were far shorter than Erik's long legs, but you were stubborn. A trait that he dreaded being on the other side of. Finally, your legs were forced to pause their march as you awaited the luxury elevators.

"What is it that you cannot talk to me about?"

Dark-lensed glasses still on inside the artificially lit hotel, you kept your head forward. The air still acted like guards from Erik's inquisition.

"So, Argentina?"

The tall man huffed, knowing if he pushed any further, you would push yourself into a new set of injuries. Numerous past experiences taught him the extent of your uncontrollability.

"We are leaving tonight. Pack your bags."

Ding!

"Never have enough time to unpack anyways."

And with that, you slipped through the doors of the gold-encrusted elevator.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

The Argentinian sun rays were blissful upon your skin—a welcoming feeling after the odd prickles of discomfort dancing upon your goosebumps. Though the break was short-lived. Following the same pattern you had since the '40s, as soon as your feet touched foreign ground, Erik went off on his own. As you walked across the dirt and stone streets of the small rural town, surrounded by beautifully secluded mountains and lush greenery, you felt just as grown as you did when you were 10. The feeling of uselessness was one you had never gotten used to—just one item on the exhausting list. Self-pity had never done you any good, so the tiny, warmly inviting shop seemed like a good distraction.

Your deep maroon leather notebook had filled its last pages, much to your irritation, on the plane ride over. Writing was always your one sure cure for clarity, and you wrote as much as you could in the metal contraption flying unnaturally through the air. You felt everything too vividly, and it suffocated you. You often wondered whether or not Erik enjoyed being surrounded by so much power, though you never managed enough courage to ask.

The colorful bells rang above your head as you smiled at the dark-haired, pretty woman behind the counter. Walking straight into the nearest aisle to avoid conversation, it found you regardless. As you were taking off your glasses to observe your surroundings, you found yourself right in front of what you were searching for—an array of bound journals shining beneath the sunlight. Squinting to adjust to the light change, you realized that your sudden stop wasn't due to a wall but rather a middle-aged man with fair brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a thick mustache.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden collision. The sight of your reaction caused the man’s own eyes to mirror your expression. It was hard not to feel ashamed and timid as he took his time gawking.

Turning away, you focused on a rich blue version of the journal you already had. The urge to hide from his stare behind your glasses tugged at your heart while your fingers shakily grasped the journal. The look in his eyes reminded you of men so sinister they transcended the bounds of the moniker.

“Do not be ashamed, leibling.”

The roughness in his aged voice was oddly laced with a smooth layer of reassurance. The warm blood flowing in your veins halted at the term of endearment. He caught onto your surprise and gave a sigh of acknowledgment.

“I can always tell a beauty from the motherland. Far too many have been running away here. Though that would make me a hypocrite, no?”

You looked at the unnerving man. Keeping silent would only do you more harm than good.

“I was not sure I was so noticeable.”

You didn’t want to be. You never were. All you wished was to be in those lush fields you saw on your way here. Away. Far away from the watchful eyes of those gray memories.

“I am not here to stay. Business trip with my brother.”

The sound of your stutters in your mother tongue made you cringe. It had been so long since you’d had a lasting conversation with someone in German. The only times you ever practiced it consistently were in your writings and mutterings to yourself. Erik stopped using it with you a few years after you turned your back on Auschwitz. Only in anger did the tongue of your lineage emerge.

The man took in your answers, stepping closer into your personal space.

“Ah, I am impressed with a man serving his people. The ones of true worth, not those cowards letting our land be split apart by those Americans and communists.”

You could feel the spit and hatred mix together as he spoke. The tubes stationed within your throat felt constricting. The work and people the man was referring to sickened you. It disgusted you that you could so easily be mixed up with your torturers. Self-hatred settled itself on the six inked numbers on your left forearm.

“Your father, where was he stationed?”

The dark numbers and darker memories felt as if they would burn their way through your thin sleeves and lies. The gulp in your throat reverberated through your weak, trembling body.

“Auschwitz.”

Your tone was as grave as the site. As grave as the one your father deserved instead of the trick of a shower. Muscles around your eyes yearned to twitch. Your forearm felt as if it were being carved all over again, this time with shame instead of ink.

An amused laugh scratched its way past his lips. He cackled.

“A man of honor. Tell him and your brother to visit the bar just outside of town. He shall be met with the last men of purpose.”

The contents of the aisle spun around your vision as the man clasped your shoulder and walked past. There would be no need to tell Erik of the small bar. You knew he was already there and would be the last man to leave alive. So much for those great “men of honor.”

Maybe if you had even tried to shift your focus onto anything else, you wouldn’t have had a mountain of emotion embodying itself on your shoulders. But you had given up on that battle a long time ago. The last time you tried, you nearly split your brain physically in half.

In the meantime, you tried to walk out of the shop quietly, but you heard the splintering of the wooden door as your panic did what it does best—ruining its surroundings. You had no choice but to run to your small hotel room, as if any slower steps would leave you sinking into the earth. A new place on the wide planet, the same stares and distress.

Making it to your room, you should have known better than to collapse on your bed, as it did just that—collapse beneath the weight of your turmoil. You could feel the pricks of wood and springs, but you could focus on healing later. Right now, all your mind could replay were insistent flashbacks. That man from the store shape-shifted in your memory to endless faces of torturers. The countless men and women who looked at your small body, not as a child, but as a simple experiment.

Number 214783.

Screams ripped past your resistant cords as scratch after scratch cemented themselves temporarily into the permanent mark of your worth. Of your place.

It was several hours later, in the darkness of night, when your gravitational sense felt a resistance. A resistance that naturally came after one of your breakdowns. And as always, it was Erik who was trying to push against your invisible walls.

You made no move to open the door he was so insistent on bending to his will through mere strength. The room was pitch black, and you were covered in debris when Erik finally managed to get through the stiff gravity. He didn’t need to turn on the lights to know what he would see. Yet, the artificial lighting burned your retinas anyway.

“Whatever this is, it isn’t healthy. Why don’t you let me help you, Liebling?”

The nickname made you flinch—a movement visible as the debris surrounding you did a little shake in apprehension. You manipulated your gravity to ease yourself onto your feet and look around at yet another mess you caused. You could feel a bit of stabbing in your shoulders from wooden splinters, but those were quickly sorted out as you used your mutation to clean the chaos out of your body and off the floor. With too much ease from too much practice, you were able to get the bed back into a condition good enough for use. You really wished you’d gotten the journal before you had your breakdown.

“Y/N—”

“Is this what my life is?”

Erik Lensherr is not a man of many words, but that does not mean he gets speechless. He seldom does, but this was one of the rare moments. You stared out the window at the dim lighting dancing in the town center.

“Just following you around, doing all the real work while I sit here and destroy everything I touch?”

“That can be controlled. You losing your life cannot. We’ve talked about this before, and the answer is still no.” Erik’s firm voice only seemed to infuriate you further. Is this what the edge felt like?

“What life?! I am sick of being sick! I am getting hurt doing nothing; at least let me do so while doing something worthwhile.”

“You are doing something worthwhile by making sure Mama’s daughter lives! I am not disappointing her by letting you do something so reckless.”

This was meant to make you back down. Echoes of the same message from all the years flowed through your ears, but all you could hear was the ringing of anger and a migraine.

“You speak of making her proud? How about I avenge her?! She was my mother too!”

“I can do it enough for the both of us!”

You could feel the metal shake before you saw it happen around you. The keys, the lights, that accursed coin. The look of horror on your face snapped Erik out of his fit of anger, bringing him back to his senses—a trait of his you have always been envious of.

There was no more point in arguing. There didn’t feel like much point to anything lately. You laid down gently on the bed this time, not even bothering with the blanket, simply turning your back to the one person who claimed to love you.

“Liebling. Please, I am only worried about you.”

You left his confession to mingle with your silence as you closed your eyes. It would only be a matter of time before Shaw would have to face the Lensherr wrath. Not just Erik’s, but as you swore to yourself, yours too.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Turns out that moment came far sooner than expected. After yet another trip, you expected it to be one that blended into all the others. That was until you caught onto the tension surrounding your brother. You kept your eyes down on the small book you managed to snatch from the lobby downstairs. In the corner of your eye, you saw him in a fully black outfit, seemingly ready for a swim. He grabbed an overcoat, and before he left the room without saying a word about his whereabouts, he turned to you.

“Tonight, we make our parents proud.” He closed the door in your face.

You had only moments for action. He was right. You both would make your parents proud.

One look at your outfit and it was clear you did not plan for the assassination of a former Nazi official. With a sleek pair of brown slacks and a black turtleneck, you were at least grateful it was dark and warm enough for the cold night air.

Erik’s tall frame was easy enough to follow, though his constant scouring behind him and around made it a constant game of hide and (hopefully) no seeking. After the 20-minute chase, the ultimate destination presented itself. A lit-up yacht was lounging restfully upon the languid water. A deep breath, a jump, and Erik landed in the water. Not a moment was wasted as he made his way through the cold, dark liquid. If he was making his way, then you needed to.

All you wanted to do was scream as the temperature began seeping into your veins, but if you stood around in discomfort, it would overcome you. You didn’t have much experience swimming, but you used your mutation to glide without much hardship.

The megaboat presented itself far too quickly for your taste, as did Erik’s jump onto the surface. A man so focused was rare to see, but it was clear, even from your lowered position, that only one thing was playing in his brain. You swam to the very edge of the boat by the ladder, and that’s where you witnessed the knives being pulled by your brother. Even more so, the symbol engraved on it. Sebastian Shaw was going to die by his own legacy.

You had just jumped onto the boat when Erik’s frame entered the boat lighting and Shaw’s sight.

“Herr Doktor.” The man—the monster—had finally come face-to-face with his own monstrous creation. No fear seemed to present itself in his voice, though, as he only greeted Erik with an odd surprise of delight.

“Little Erik Lensherr.”

Even though the knife was on full display, his blonde companion was quick to broadcast his intentions. “He is here to kill you… and he isn’t alone.”

Well, that wasn’t planned. With no choice but to come out, you realized that you were grossly unprepared. You brought no weapon other than your mutation’s unpredictability. Though, as you came face-to-face with the man who had haunted every thought you’ve had since you were six, you were certain that a chaotic outburst wasn’t too far away. Hopefully, you could aim it this time. As surprised as Shaw was, it was nothing compared to Erik’s surprise. Maybe you should have just stayed at the hotel.

“Ah! Two makes a party! It’s a shame that, even grown up, you haven’t learned manners. Come on now, this is not the type of greeting. After all these years?”

Suddenly, piercing scratches engraved their way through your ear canals and into your brain. Sounds of drilling, shrieks, and electricity all began buzzing and mixing together as one face came into focus: Sebastian Shaw and his sick satisfaction at your torture, which he labeled “experiment.” You noticed Erik was on his knees yet broke free and took his chance by throwing the knife, guiding it through his own mutation. This break of focus by Emma Frost gave you liberation of your own mind and the opportunity to strike.

As Emma flung Erik over the boat’s edge, you took your time to fight back. In her diamond form, you swung into the air, hitting no target with your physical knuckles but using the gravity around her to make your impact, seeing a satisfying crack in her diamond coating.

“Well! Young Y/N fighting back!” Shaw's disgustingly gleeful voice rang through the air, distracting you just enough for Emma to nearly repeat the same move she used on your brother. But you were fast. Grabbing her arm, you used a few moves you managed to learn from Erik's very limited fighting lessons. Kicking her firmly in the stomach was enough to deceive you into believing you had a chance—until coast guard lights began lighting up your scene. Even with spotlights on you, you weren't going to let your shot at Shaw miss.

You fully lunged for the despicable man, until suddenly your feet were no longer touching the ground. Looking down, you saw the boat at least 40 feet below you, and as you turned your head upwards, you were met with a devilish face snarking back at you.

“He doesn't need two of you.”

You were no stranger to pain. Crushing, slicing, and even nerve-shocking pain were unfortunate realities of your mutation. But the feeling of stabbing was different—not a thousand little pricks, but a clean slice across your stomach. As was the sensation of it being ruptured and invaded by the dropping air, as the grip on the front of your black sweater let go. You could hear metal rampaging through the yacht, knowing Erik was doing what he was bred for: pain and destruction. While you were doing what you were bred for: failure embodied on a chopping block.

Your mutation worked instinctively to protect you from death upon impact, but the frigidness seeped into your wounds as crimson began coating the already dark waves. Even with the softened impact, your lungs still had the air knocked out of them, which you naturally gasped to regain, yet only took gulps of salty water flavored with copper blood.

Eyes closed, your connection to Erik was still too strong. The connection to all the forces was too strong. You could feel the submarine slipping away, along with your consciousness. If death already had you in its grasp, you might as well play your last laugh in life.

With every last cell marked with the pesky X-gene, you bent gravity to your will to lift the submarine. Slowly, the ocean's grip on the metal contraption began loosening as it was exposed to the night air. It was becoming excruciating as the salt penetrated your exposed flesh and water filled your lungs as you began laughing. You were happy you were in the water when the tears came. At least when Mama saw you, she wouldn't be able to tell the tear stains. If you died laughing, maybe Erik would somehow hear it through the ocean's enveloping waves. At last, you would be at peace. The darkness that overtook your eyes then overtook all your senses, leaving you an unconscious hope drifting at sea.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Charles Xavier has known humanity more intimately than potentially any human before. Yet that fateful night in 1962 was one that changed his perspective on it more than any of the prior decades of his telepathic existence.

All he was meant to do was invade the mind of one Sebastian Shaw, help with world peace, and get started with his teachings as an official professor. Though, nothing worthwhile in life is planned. When Charles realized that the water was not free of occupants, he rushed to save Erik from drowning himself. Until he realized that there was a soul drowning beneath the waves and one suffocating above in the night air.

“Oh my God,” a horrified Moira could only gasp as two figures levitated above in the moonlight before one simply poofed away while it seemed a girl dropped at a concerning speed. In an instant, Charles made a plan and prayed that it would work for the lives of the two strangers and his own conscience. The water was unwelcoming to Charles as it clung to him, trying to drag him down, but he was defiant as he latched onto the tall man in front of him.

“You can't! You'll drown! You have to let go. I know what this means to you, but you and your sister are going to die. Please, Erik, calm your mind.”

The sensation was all uncomfortable and intrusive to Erik, but the one thing that made him refuse all his instincts to keep going was the mention of his beloved sister, you. The two men emerged from the icy domain of the water, and as all questions of who this strange voice in his mind was, Erik had only one thing on his mind:

“Where is she?!”

Very distantly, Charles could feel the last grasp of consciousness and knew time was of the utter essence.

“She is not far, but we have no time to lose. Can you pull her with your ability?”

Out of breath and in far too many layers of confusion and panic, Erik had no hesitation as he stuck his hand out, praying you had enough metal upon you for Erik to use. Thankfully, you decided to wear the very first necklace Erik had gifted to you after your escape for Hanukkah. It was a small necklace with a few charted stars. It was stolen, that much you could assume due to your financial standing, but you had kept it dear to your heart and chest for all these years.

Erik clung to the feeling of its magnetic pull and called it to him. His frozen blue eyes were manically wide as he kept out for any sign of you. While he worked on bringing you forward with his mutation, Charles dove back in. Back into the dark abyss of the water and your unconscious mind.

It was rare for the mind to be a silent place. Even when he was younger, accidentally invading someone's dreams was never a quiet sensation. Yet again, Charles had never been in the brain of an unconscious soul. He didn’t want the list of firsts to continue with the feeling of losing a life in his arms. Faster, deeper, he went at full speed, chasing that faint buzzing of your brain. As he got further below the surface, you got closer to it. The small and dainty necklace was unnaturally the levy to your entire being when Charles grabbed your faint body in his arms and swam to the surface with a hunger for air. With each stroke, he tried to enter your mind, begging you to wake.

Within a few moments, the two of you were back in the realm of oxygen as Erik met you. Charles quickly switched you into Erik’s arms as the three of you made it to the CIA boat. Erik had no reason to trust the man in front of him except for the fact that he saved your lives and that he may be like you. A mutant.

Even before your body was lain on the ground, Charles' urgent pleas for medical aid rang through the icy air. Erik's reddened hands were covered in crimson while his cheeks were covered in tears.

“Liebling, please. Please! Bitte!”

Erik hadn’t pleaded in 17 years. It was a foreign taste to his tongue, but he would make it go numb if it meant you no longer would be. You weren’t the one meant to die today. Erik was going to surprise you. Just one last ticket. This time, wherever you want to go. Forever. Start your life. It was supposed to be the beginning. Now why is it the end?

It was hard for Charles to focus when Erik's thoughts nearly drowned out the faint buzzing of your consciousness. All he wished to do was calm Erik's mind, but any second spent on him was one second closer to death for you. With a hand on his forehead and one brushing the hair away from your face, Charles clung onto that small sliver in your brain.

It was a fountain. Not too grand, but with the way the water sparkled and mirrored the surrounding gothic buildings, it made quite the spectacle. The weather was warm yet not hot, aided by the slight breeze. Floral scents wafted through the air, mixed in with the fountain and fresh bread from a bakery close by. Charles knew he was in a memory of yours with the way he felt the emotions you did: joy, contentment, and hopefulness. He knew it was a memory because above all those emotions, the one of aching presented itself painfully.

Fingers were intertwined with his. He finally moved his eyes away from the fountain and to the point of connection. Your hands didn’t clench to him. Instead, his did to you. Yours were grasping until the point your knuckles were white, with the hand of a woman. She looked youthful and beautiful, though there was a strain in her eyes. A sadness she entrapped, only visible in the reflection of the sparkling water fountain. You faced forward, but the look of wonder was infected with confusion at Charles’s additional presence. The fingers in his began to move, brushing with his. The woman to your right, who you assumed to be your mother, sighed lovingly and pulled your hand toward her as she tried to move. You were frozen.

“Es ist Zeit zu gehen, meine Liebe.”

Her voice was honey-sweet and a long-sought comfort. Charles noticed how your knees bent to move and your finger pointed to follow.

“Y/N, come back to us.”

Your fingers were now tracing the inside of his palms, as if trying to follow a map. Once again, you made no effort to move, but Charles did. He tugged your hand gently to gain your attention, though it didn’t work as your eyes still traced the glorious movements of the falling water in front of you.

“Y/N, wir müssen gehen, Erik wartet.”

Your name sounded so pretty with its proper pronunciation from the woman who had given it to you. The language was still foreign to Charles, but it was your mind, so you could make sense of it, and by association, so could he. A tug once more to your clasped hand.

“Erik is this way. He needs you.”

Your eyes flinched as Charles saw more life and confusion dance behind them. Turning your head, you saw your mother. Her patient smile, crinkled crow's feet, and jubilant hair you always loved to play with when doing dress-up with her. She was everything you longed for. A near step in her direction was too close for Charles.

He placed a hand upon your shoulder, and only then did he finally get the privilege of being witness to such a sight of beauty. You turned your head and knew instantly that this was not a product of your mind. It could never produce such a sight as Charles Xavier’s eyes. The longer the stare was held between you two, the more you felt it all. The gravity of the water, the birds slicing through the air, and a faint pain growing stronger in your stomach. You looked down at it and saw the red staining the milk-white dress you donned. Back to those deep orbs, who seemed to beg you to tug back. Slowly, you started to hear the pleas of a man echoing through the memory. It sounded eerily similar to Erik.

“Y/N.”

At the same time, your mother’s comforting and Charles’s intriguing voices called for you. Your hands were outstretched in front of the fountain as the sun began to set. You felt as the skin began to break apart as the cut deepened. Erik’s voice was as persistent as that never-ending flowing fountain. It was odd—not being able to feel another’s heartbeat, but Charles’s beating so rapidly. Your mother’s didn’t beat at all.

The young man knew just how tempted you were to let go of his grasp. The soliciting pathway out of the tribulation so filled with sorrow was hard to resist, more so for you. All it had been since this near-decade-old memory was a sea of despair. Charles swore to himself that if he was able to get you back, it would not follow that pattern. He was in your mind, but it seemed you were in his as well, as you looked at him as he took his vow. A silence between you two as more voices joined the now urgent shouts of Erik and the maelstrom of metal bending. Your fingers clutched your mother’s as she gave you a loving smile. It was returned with glossy eyes.

“Erik is waiting for me, mama.”

Your fingers finally fully intertwined with Charles’s as you let go of the woman you thought of every night. Once again, your eyes were caught in his orbit as everything became far sharper and more tangible. The sounds of the falling water droplets of the fountain were the last of the memory to dissipate when your eyes finally opened.

A ragged and painful breath was signal enough for Erik as he lifted his head from your shoulder in disbelief.

“Liebling!”

Charles stepped back to give you room but noticed your hands were intertwined in reality, just as they had been in your mind. You looked around and met at least half a dozen pairs of eyes staring down at you, and a pair of gloved hands trying to catarize your stomach in a fashion that made you queasy.

Erik grasped your face to look at it, but you pushed his hands away, along with the young man trying to heal you. If you could, you would have pushed everyone far enough away so you could do your own healing in seclusion, but you did not have such privilege. Eyes slipping closed, your hands rested on your stomach as you sped up your blood clotting process. The cut was diagonal, long, and deep, but with years of practice on much smaller cuts, you were able to manage a speedy procedure that fully stopped any external bleeding. Then came the painful part. You looked forward, past a certain brunette woman’s curious eyes, as you held back grunts of pain. Charles watched in amazement and intense worry as your skin was being pulled at an unusual pace toward the other ripped half, unnaturally closing securely. After one internal check of everything in order with your gift of gravity, you let out a shaky breath, dreading what was to come next.

“That was extraordinary.”

To your left, the man from your mind was there. He was real, yet still not out of your brain as you heard him. He gave you a charming and compassionate smile at your confusion.

“I am just like you. You are not alone.”

You were given no opportunity to respond, nevertheless comprehend what had all happened when Erik forcibly turned your sore body towards him.

“Was dachtest du, was du da macpymhst?!” The words didn’t need to be elaborated to any of the operatives, which many could already translate, to know they were not ones that you were eager to answer. Their expectations coming true as you lifted yourself up, with generous aid by the man you for some reason wanted to call Charles. Erik’s eyes were wide and frantic as he examined you and your shivering form. He had nothing to give you of warmth, but Charles did. Wordlessly, he offered you his coat, and yet another staring match; you took it with a shy smile. As if there was a conversation between the two of you that the rest were not privy to. He suggested that all of you go inside and shelter away from the cold, an offer you gladly took as it took you away from Erik. Though, of course, not for long.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t know where you were going, you simply walked the halls and back towards your brother. “I would simply like to rest, Erik, not now.” Looking past Erik’s burning stare, you addressed the young man who you just now noticed was as drenched as you and Erik. “Do you have anywhere we can rest? We will be gone by dawn, I swear.”

You had no idea how you would do that and where you would go from here, but that was an issue for tomorrow. If you could, you would have demanded to be taken to shore and out of the way of whoever these people were, but you were simply too exhausted. The young man stepped forward, his accent as smooth and refined as silk.

“Actually, we would prefer you to be here by sunlight. We would like you to stay, join us. You two are not the only ones. You are not alone.”

You finally looked at Erik, albeit with apprehension, and he did the same as he tried to understand what the still unintroduced man was saying. It seemed to hit him then (or did he peer into your minds? Was that his ability?).

“Ah, I am so sorry, I fear I have been too distracted to properly introduce myself. Charles Xavier.”

He first held out his hand for you, that smile ever-present. You took it cautiously but he returned with understanding. He turned to Erik, who, to your surprise, took it. An enthusiasm radiated in the air surrounding Charles.

“This is Agent Moira MacTaggert and fellow CIA agents—”

“The CIA?”

A panic rang through your voice. You were raised to trust no one, nevertheless the government. Any kind. You remembered the last time you got caught up. You were beginning to question whether or not Charles was a telepath or empath, as he knew exactly what to ease your worries, somewhat.

“The mutant division. We are after Shaw just as you are. Now you just don’t have to be on your own.”

Moira nodded from behind him in confirmation while Charles was focused on Erik, seemingly knowing he was the decision-maker between the two of you. Clearly, there was a conversation between the two in the sphere of the mind. Yet, whatever Charles had said must have been meticulously crafted as Erik did something against his very nature. He took Charles’s hand and agreed to join along with whatever this was. Then it was his turn to brush past you and deeper into the boat.

Considering you were all in a metal boat that he could easily crush like a tin can, it was no surprise a short man with glasses and a black suit followed along with the pretty Moira. That just left you and Charles.

“I apologize for the intrusion, though that was a beautiful memory. I can see why you thought of it.”

His words were soft and genuine. You knew mutants were oddities, but Charles seemed the oddest of them all. A rarity within rarities.

“You saved my life.” The words were blunt but didn’t offend Charles in the slightest.

“I would say you saved your own life. You made the choice.”

Charles took your processing time to take you in. Your hair was drenched and knotted yet somehow looked perfectly styled for your prettily reddened cheeks and nose and sparkling eyes. His bones were freezing but, to him, it was worth it. He would be willing to suffer the cold into the morning if he could ensure you would be there. Just a glimpse into your mind, and Charles wanted to indulge more. This was a sensation he had never felt before. His own cheeks grew red, not out of bitter wind but out of embracing heat as he thought of how Raven would tease him mercilessly if she saw him now.

Clearing his throat, he gestured for you to follow him.

“You can rest in this room tonight. I will tell Moira to bring you a change of clothes to ensure you don’t get a case of hypothermia. Rest as much as you need, truly.”

You looked inward at the small but functional room. You turned back and noticed the intense gaze of those crystal eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.”

If only you had a dollar for every time he had flashed that ever-present smirk at you.

“A ‘goodnight’ should suffice quite nicely.”

A slight smile began to grow on your lips. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

translations:

Liebling - darling

Bitte - Please

Es ist Zeit zu gehen, meine Liebe - It's time to go, my love

wir müssen gehen, Erik wartet- we have to go, Erik is waiting

Was dachtest du, was du da macpymhst?! - What did you think you were doing?!

[boxheadpaint]

oh god when did i diary post last. Well as good a time as any

another year older today, though birthday festivities are actually taking place yesterday and tomorrow due to conflicting schedules and hannukah party stuff. spending this last week of DEMBER watching found footage / mockumentary horror and doing my best not to worry as much as usual to varying levels of success. still need to get refill on blood pressure meds because sleep is annoying again thanks.

joycon controller journey where in the end i grab those ergonomic ones which they only had the pokemon print ones in stock but theyre very nice. they make my switch wide and intimidating and it doesnt hurt to use which im not sure why i ever got used to that for normal joycons? I can take a few guesses though namely being yay videogames and being good at ignoring pain until its gone for a bit.

waiting back for exciting surgery news though knowing state health that wont be for a while! in the mean time just gonna look at fish and have a beautiful time. didnt actually super celebrate christmas this year, stayed home with partner. did have a gift from my mom (MICHEAL FATCAT VOLUME 2 LETS FUCKING GO. And a book on color combinations) for it and another for my birthday (immensely sexy natural illustration book) which was very nice and makes me happy. since she moved to mexico our schedules dont line up as well from timezones but the few calls we have had are nice. she got a puppy that made me cry over video from the smallness.

at this point i miss digital art enough that i am willin to brave the overheating and bluescreening of my surface again but maybe instead i could set up some stand made of welded paperclips or something so it can sit up and breathe again. Mom gave me her old one but its windows 11, then theres the yogas that doug has where one doesnt work with my pen and says ACTIVATE WINDOWS in the corner because it was probably some sensitive work thing while the other yoga has like. a mystery charger we have yet to find. we will likely try to downgrade moms from the windows 11 shit as best we can but god im not confident in it.

Every month i think i need to stop worrying about what people will think of my art, that their interpretations dont matter and i am doing what makes me happy and what keeps me interested. i also manage to forget this every month around the same time. i miss drawing very very quickly to make stupid funny pictures for people, its a lot better at conveying how i feel and think than trying to pull from my limited vocabulary. written words are basically just another kind of picture that are funny and dont make any sense in any order you say them and will never get across what you are trying to say.

okami HD was 5 dollars on the switch. its been a lot of fun to play through it again after all this time- when i was a kid i thought after orochi i beat the game and that whatever else was going on was a weirdly long postgame. i stopped at the VERY near end of act 2 because of the fucking blockhead warrior guy was impossible for me. i was trying to get footage of the weakpoints on a flipphone with my family behind me like mission control. now that im an adult man with reading comprehension and a smaller screen with a built in screencapture function im sure i will get just as mad as i did back then.

12/28/2024, I keep accidentally not hydrating enough day-to-day and i still need a shower. gonna go fuckin water mode

[dailynyarinder]

wakey wakey

Is someone home?

HI GUYS MOD HERE IM SO SORRY

Another quick Daily Nyarinder coming soon! Plus… a challenge? 👀

An explanation for my absence + details on an upcoming Daily Nyarinder event under the cut!!

So kinda personal bt my therapist left her practice unexpectedly so I got off my adhd and depresso meds at the same time as I was moving to another house and I just… really lost steam and haven’t had the energy to work on this project orz

i love cotl with all my heart! But my main fandom is svsss (shout out to kamkamquats on twt, this blog was inspired by their dailybingpup!! 💖) and trying to move all my shit over from twitter to bluesky so it doesn’t feed Elon Musk’s ai has also taken a lot of energy that would have been spent drawing for both cotl and svsss.

Additionally, last time I checked this blog I got some anon asks trying to pull me into fandom wank. The admin of this account is a grown adult with a spouse, a house, community protests to organize/attend, cosplays to make, a startup business to take care of; online fandoms are my comfort place and have been since I was 13, and as such I resolved years ago to stay away from fandom drama and just do what makes me happy. I’m really used to how chill and sweet svsss fandom is, so it was kinda startling to remember that younger fandoms are very drama-prone. I deleted those messages, but it still left a sour taste in my mouth whenever I came back to this blog.

As such, I’ve been on a break. And I probably will continue this hiatus until things settle on bluesky and I can spend more time on my friend’s cotl discord server to get my motivation back.

-

THAT SAID, I hope to do a little daily nyarinder art challenge for anyone who still follows this blog! Instructions and rules will be posted separately later today, but the idea is thus:

“YOU, dear reader, are just as wonderful, creative, and capable an artist as any cultist here. What do YOU want to see in Daily Nyarinder’s escapades? Pick up a craft and get creating! Use whatever you’ve got—whether it’s a fancy tablet, ibispaint on a touchscreen phone (that’s how dailynyarinder has been made so far 👀), a pen and the back of a receipt, needle and thread, hook and yarn, scrapbooking paper and scissors, a word doc and a keyboard, a camera, etc etc etc. Whatever medium brings you joy and renews your belief in our benevolent God of Death, this humble Narinder blog calls upon you to make and share a Daily Nyarinder post of your own!

Skill level doesn’t matter in the face of creativity. Whether you’re a renowned oil painter, a fanfic author, a newbie artist, or a kid who just really likes cats, all offerings are encouraged and welcome!

As for content rules, the Nyarinderverse is full of strange and unusual things; anything goes! HOWEVER, since this is a sfw blog and is followed by lots of minors, I’ll ask that if anyone participating decides to draw nsfw content, please make sure it is appropriately tagged and locked behind some sort of link—whether it’s a link to twitter, privatter, or elsewise. Any NSFW that isn’t hidden from immediate view will not be reblogged on this blog. If and when I reblog potential nsfw content, it will be tagged “NSFW” BY ME BY AS WELL so that my followers can filter it out if they need.

Any characters, ships, potential squicks or triggers, etc should be tagged appropriately.

Please know that this blog will never, EVER harass or condone/encourage harassment based on what you make, but as the mod I retain the right to not reblog works that squick me out personally. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make them; it just means they might not all appear here.

Works may be posted separately under the hashtag #DailyNyarinderChallenge or submitted to this blog!

Finally, and most importantly, HAVE FUN!”

^^^ the challenge text will be reposted with some promotional artwork later, but does this sound like it would be a fun event? Let me know what you think.

Look forward to the resolution of the current daily nyarinder arc this week! But then I’ll likely go back on break again until things settle. 💖🐈‍⬛

[taxkha]

i love your art so much i can't even describe it!! for the past year, every time i see it, it inspires me to create and improve so much i can't be jealous; i can only work harder hoping i can invoke the same feeling in someone else one day. your masterful use of loose lines and cozy colors never fails to make me happy on the rainiest day. do you have any tips for establishing such atmospheres, such as color selection or particular poses or expressions? (i don't write very well, sorry if this seems confusing) -an anon who appreciates your work to the fullest

Oh my god anon, you are so sweet, thank you so much (ಥ﹏ಥ) It means so much to hear I inspire someone to draw and I'm happy I can motivate you! <3 Please keep it up and I would love to see what you are making if you ever feel like sharing it! x) I'm so happy to hear my art has such a positive impact on you!! Okay so regarding your questions! When it comes to colors I recently made a coloring tutorial where I also went a bit into how I select colors, how I shade and what my go to effect layers are, you can find it here but it's also currently pinned at the top of my blog! I explained it in my tutorial but I will say it here again, I rely a lot on effect layers. That isn't wrong by any means and is what I would argue most digital artists do but if you want to learn actual color theory that goes beyond what colors compliment each other I unfortunately cant help with that on my own nor do I have any guides at hand to redirect you to :") Speaking of complimentary colors though, knowing your color wheel and which colors contrast each other already helps a lot! My favourites are green/red and orange/blue! To give some examples: green/red

These are less about an atmosphere achieved through lighting but more about the general subject matter of the piece. They are both more ominous and uh, bloody and threatening. And for Orange/Blue

The orange and blue combination is something you see in a lot of movies, for example Mad Max Fury Road or Blade Runner 2049 and many many more which have likely influenced me on what colors I chose in my art to some extend. Paying attention to media other than your own helps a ton and can totally improve on how you approach you art! Like, obviously I draw mostly anime/manga esque art and I get most of my inspiration from manga and video games, but I also try and look at buildings when Im outside, look closely at shot compositions in movies and so on! Other inspirations that have helped me are artbooks from my favorite games/shows/series, if you enjoy those x) Theres probably PDFs to be found of a lot of artbooks online if you don't want to spend money on them. I know you didn't directly ask what my inspirations are lol but they absolutely helped me! OKAY SO now about poses and expressions. Since you mentioned my loose lines, I have very good advice for that: Draw without erasing. Get a scrap book or some lose paper, cheap paper! And a pen you cant erase, such as a fineliner or a ballpoint pen and then draw. Do not go into it with the intent to make an actual good drawing, just. Draw! Draw half finished faces, hands, bodies, cats, whatever you feel like. Fill up the entire page. If you don't want to waste any paper, do it digitally but don't erase! Do that a lot. You will train yourself to draw loser and loser as time goes on. I've always had the habit of doodling onto everything mindlessly and I still do so I never had to actively practice drawing lose lines but thats most likely the reason why I draw the way I do! I actually have some examples from today because I got distracted at work:

I just draw whatever comes to mind until the page is full. I usually don't even keep these pages :") It has helped me a lot though. Uh yeah thats pretty much everything?? Thanks so much again for sending this ask, it was a very sweet thing to wake up to and I hope my rambles here can be of any help and to you good luck in your art endeavors!! :) <3

[florencetypemaniacs]

Happy birthday, Marcel

Mild NSFW 🔞

You felt your muscles ache as you went up the stairs to the shared apartment with your boyfriend. The weight of everything happening today leaves you with each step. 

The cafe had been a disaster; the shipment of flour didn't come in, so half the pastries were missing from hungry customers. To put matters worse, Aunt Zinnia was out sick, so not only had you worked by yourself, but cleaning and locking up were all on you. 

You sighed as you pulled your key out of your pocket, smiling a little at the welcome mat that Marcel put down when you first moved in. 

The smile on your lips only grew, knowing you were promised this morning a more intimate welcome after getting off work. Since you were both interrupted by a call from your sick aunt,. 

"I'm home!" You said that, shutting the door behind you. A smug smile crossed your face as you saw the light on in your bedroom. "Did you miss me?" 

You stopped in your tracks to see Marcel sitting up in bed with a pile of paperwork on his lap and a pen in hand. A small, healthy snack on the bedside table. Knowing Marcel, it was probably the only thing he had eaten today. 

The smell of ash and sulfur filled the room, and you knew it came from the papers themselves. 

You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. "I guess your boss paid you a visit." 

Marcel glanced at you, and he instantly perked up, already giving you more room on the bed to lay down. Your dismay must have shown on your face because Marcel gave you an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, love, but Lord Greed needs these papers done by tomorrow." 

"For the love of God." (Or well, Lucifer, in this matter) You griped. 

Marcel gave you a worried look. "Is everything alright, my love?" 

You deflated a little from the nickname and gave him an innocent smile. "That depends on your answer." 

"My answer to what?" 

"Are you going to ditch the paperwork to spend a nice night with me?" 

"I'm afraid these documents can't wait," Marcel said. He gave you another apologetic look before his eyes roamed the papers again. 

You huffed and walked into the closet, getting ready for bed. The soft and silk clothes you wore only slowed your aggravated nerves slightly.

"Is something wrong, love?" Marcel asked, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

"No, nothing at all!" 

You could practically feel Marcel's worry from the other room, and you called back. "I thought we would be doing something more fun tonight." You said this as you walked out, only to be met with a confused look. 

"Fun? Like a movie? We can watch a movie after im done." 

"No." Your tone was curt, and Marcel blinked only once before realization crossed his face, and he let out a small. "Oh." 

"You still need to do those documents?" You asked with crossed arms. 

Marcel stared at you for a long time, battling with himself, before sighing. It seemed as if no time passed at all before Marcel was on you. Marcel's hands moved rapidly but softly to remove one piece of clothing after another from your body, until you were naked in front of him, your skin glistening in the lamplight.

The paperwork was forgotten. "My god, you're exquisite," he exclaimed as he resumed his examination of your now-bare physique. His fingertips brushed over silky skin, his tongue massaged taut nipples, and his warm breath sent thrills down your spine. He pulled back with a contented smile, happy with how you shook under his touch.

"So no paperwork?" You snickered, which only earned you a quick laugh before Marcel took off his clothes, with your help, of course. 

For several long moments, you both lost yourself in the overwhelming pleasure washing over you both. Your entire body tingled, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Marcel was good at it. Using your body like a map to make sure that you feel the most pleasure, stop only for a second after each moan, noting it down for later. 

Your body twisted and turned as you battled to keep hold of the headboard. You had no idea how you got to the bed, but you were glad you did. The pleasant warmth of his mouth on your most personal area made you hot as the sulfur air stroked your exposed flesh.

Paperwork: 0, Spicy Time: 1 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - An Adrien Brody/Jade Burton (OC) Story.

Lord help me, besties. We're starting this, and we're starting it now because I cannot wait to reveal it to you! I did say I wouldn't write RPF again as it feels too personal a line to cross, so please bear in mind that while I have tried to remain true to who Adrien appears to be, he is a little fictionalised, too. The same goes for his family and friends as well. I have created them as OC's because it feels much too intrusive to his life to write them otherwise.

Well, the first chapter is mammoth, so please do make sure you're sitting comfortably with a drink and some snacky snacks before you embark. I cannot wait to hear your thoughts!

A huge thank you again to my beautiful @jemmalynette for the lovely photo manip she created for me, and to Angelina Jolie for serving as Jade's face claim! If you want to know Jade's voice claim a little better, here. This is the scream she hit Adrien with upon first meeting him! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a98LI-arNS4

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 5,614

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Tell us something about your wife that people would find surprising.” 

He mulls it over for a few seconds, looking to his side at her, laughing as he takes in her raised eyebrows. “She’s actually quite introverted, unless she knows the people she’s with well. Then her volume and mischief amp up considerably,” he begins, which I must say is perhaps the last thing I expected him to reply with. “No, no. It’s completely true, she is. She’s often quiet, an extreme juxtapose for how she appears up on stage with a microphone in her hand, but yeah. The Jade you see performing live is a completely different entity to the woman she is away from it, and I found that out pretty quickly after we first met.”  

It is a stark contrast to the public persona of Jade Burton-Brody, a woman known for rarely shying away from being outspoken and controversial, whether it be her fiercely penned lyrics, or her opinions on the subject matters she holds dear. She was, after all, the woman who advised legions of young female rock fans to, and I quote, “Burn the patriarchy to the goddamned ground.” 

Before me today, though, I do see a much softer side to the screaming hurricane of a woman I familiarised myself with through the scouring of YouTube videos, a woman more than happy to let her husband lead in the questions, always looking to him to reply first. She has spoken in the past of him being her unequivocal strength and support, and I take her back to that, the moment she first met the man she would marry just six months after their first meeting. 

“Jade, you’ve spoken about your first meeting a couple of times in the past, but for the record, would you care to share it again?”  

She laughs loudly at my question, leaning into her husband a little, combing her fingers through her hair as she remembers fifteen years into the past. “I screamed in his face, he liked it, and the rest is history.” 

Indeed, such a meeting did seal itself into history, the moment the iconic pair met captured by a photographer pointing his camera in the right direction at exactly the right time, immortalising the moment where the formidable first lady of metal took to the barriers at the Rock and Iron festival, grabbed the hand of the Hollywood heavyweight, and proceeded to scream like a harpy about an inch from his face. “She blew my eardrums out,” Adrien speaks of the moment, “I had never heard anything that loud in the whole of my life!” 

Indeed, like it he did, the first stages of their fledgling relationship captured on film while a documentary team were following her and the band, shooting the footage for the 2010 documentary, “The Devil you Don’t Know.” As the footage shows, the actor found himself with a rare two week break between projects, one of those weeks spent living on a tour bus with the band, unwilling to be parted from the woman he’d struck up such an immediate connection with. 

“I called my manager and told her to shift all my interviews to telephone, rearranged everything for the following week before I flew out to Hawaii to begin shooting Predators, and yeah, lived on a bus with five insane, but adorable women for seven days.” He smiles a little shyly, his eyes warm as he views her. “Didn’t want to let her go.”  

When asked if it was love at first sight, he elaborates a little further. “I’ve never believed in that. Too many components have to fall into place for love to bloom, so I don’t think it can be so spontaneous as to simply view somebody and feel such a powerful emotion right off the bat. After that week I spent with her, though. Yeah. I departed from the tour knowing I’d left behind the girl I was going to marry someday.” 

And for Jade? “I knew. He was my person. Still is fifteen years on, too.”  

Just viewing the natural ease the couple have around one another cements that, after battling with so much over their years together. They both freely admit they rarely saw one another for the first two years of their marriage, their relationship plagued by media scrutiny, storms of paparazzi, accusations of their romance serving purely as a manufactured PR pairing for publicity, others stating that it was to give Jade greater leverage as she further embarked upon her acting career away from the world of music. One only has to watch the woman on screen to see that she carries enough weight from her own talents to not need the bolstering of her husband’s surname to snare her hard-earned successes.  

Indeed, the pair have weathered many storms and come through them stronger, standing as one of Hollywood’s most illimitable power couples, yet the term is somewhat lost on them both. “We’re complete dorks,” Jade laughs, “we really are. We set one another off all the time being absolutely ridiculous.” 

“It’s true,” her husband confirms, beginning to chuckle right on cue. “Nobody makes me laugh like her. It’s so corny, but truly, she’s my best friend. Deciding to get on that bus fifteen years ago was one of the greatest decisions I ever made.”  

It can be witnessed quite easily, too. It takes only a few glimpses into their respective social media accounts to see the humorous ease they tease one another with, but always with incredible affection. ‘Baby love! <3 Love you too, Morticia!’ Adrien commented on a heartfelt post his wife recently shared to Instagram, a throwback picture of the pair kissing at the 2016 Oscar’s ceremony, where his beloved won best supporting actress for her role across from Robert De Niro in the 2016 blockbuster, Five Marked Men. 

“It took him about a month to get over me with black hair instead of blonde, so I was Morticia for four straight weeks instead of Jade!” she laughs, obviously taking his teasing with good humour.  

“I was so damned proud of her, even though I couldn’t get used to the black hair,” he laughs taking her hand in his. “Always have been. She’s incredible.” 

And truly? Adrien wasn’t wrong in what he stated about boarding that tour bus in the interview for a very well-known media outlet, who had come to their home for a rare glimpse into their private life together. Yet for Jade, it began much earlier than that, at a time when perhaps she was least willing to hear what her future had in store for her. 

San Luis Obispo, CA, 2007. 

“Come on, Skippy. No dragging those feet.” 

Jade did nothing to conceal the force of her huff, pulling back from the beachfront steps of the home she was being dragged to by the enthusiastic, blonde whirlwind that was her closest friend and drummer in their band. Jen had always put a lot of faith in psychics, Jade not so much at all, living in a world of regret at agreeing from sheer relentless nagging only to go and have her tealeaves read.  

“You have to stop calling me Skippy. One day, this day, actually. Enough!”  

Jen grinned, a flash of bright white teeth widening her mouth. “Maybe when you don’t make clicking noises like the little kangaroo in your sleep, I might.” Skippy or Skip, it had been her much-begrudged nickname since they’d struck up a friendship as teenagers upon Jade’s arrival from the UK to America. 

Entering the home, they were greeted warmly by Cerise, the lady of the tealeaves, tarot cards and all things mystic, Jade politely giving her a little hug before they seated themselves at the large, round table. All around, large canvasses ode to the divine and spiritual covered the walls, candles flickering, incense burning, casting strong plumes of eastern fragrance into the air.  

“Her first!” Jen spoke enthusiastically as the tea was poured, drumming her hands rapidly off the table.  

Cerise jerked her head to the left, viewing Jade with a warm smile. “She’s always tapping, this one, isn’t she?” 

“Typical drummer,” she confirmed, winking at her as Cerise went about her tea preparation, the women making pleasant chit chat as the brew was drank. 

“Now, you don’t have to tell me anything, darling. I’m not one of those charlatans who cold reads situations to feed it back to you. What I see, I see it without being told anything from the person I’m reading from.” She truly doubted the validity of that, but nodded politely, passing her cup into Cerise’s outstretched hand. “I sometimes get extra information from my spirits as well, so if they have anything, they’ll pipe up. They usually do.” Staring into the cup, she began studying the pattern of the grainy tea, humming to herself. “The man you’re with right now? He isn’t the one. It’ll be the one after him.” 

Immediately, Jade found herself feeling prickled on the inside, mildly incensed that anyone would say that the man she’d spent three years with happily would not end up as the one she would stay so blissfully in love with. How dare she even suggest!  

She wouldn’t unleash that indignance, though. “How can you tell?”  

“Trust me, darling. I can tell. Oh, my spirits are in good voice, hold on.” Closing her eyes, she appeared as if she was listening, shaking her head and waving her hands. “One at a time, for the love of...” Jade’s face of utter disbelief earned her a soft foot to the shin beneath the table, Jen tightening her lips and widening her eyes. Cerise nodded, humming in confirmation before casting her eyes back to the cup. “Okay, I have more information. The man you’ll end up with, well you’ll know for sure when you meet him, sweetheart. You’ll scream at him. He also has the same name as your dog.”  

“I beg your pardon?” Jade coughed, her beloved Great Dane appearing in her mind’s eye. “I’m meeting someone called Brodie, who I’ll scream at? Right. Okay.”  

“He’ll spell it differently, darling. Oh, and his eyes. You’ll love his eyes, because you will never have seen green like them before. Yes, most certainly, he is the man who will come into your life and never leave it.”  

She had to bite her cheek to prevent herself from laughing. “Alright. Thank you.”  

While a much more willing Jen had her tealeaves read, Jade went outside for a cigarette, calling her boyfriend to relay the ridiculous message she’d just been given. 

“Um, she said what?” Ivan snorted, his laugh booming down the phone. “Uh-uh, no fucking way. Like I’d ever let you go.”  

The Russian born, but American raised Ivan Kuznetsov had been her absolute everything since meeting him three years previously, watching him win his bout at a UFC fight in Las Vegas. Because of their schedules, Jade and her seemingly endless long hauls of touring, also parlaying her talents into the acting world, and Ivan locked in rigorous training, they didn’t see as much of one another as they’d have liked, but they made it work.  

Until they didn’t. Until it broke, or rather, until he and his famously ferocious temper broke it completely, almost twelve months on from the tealeaves message she’d received, and quickly forgotten all about. She’d have been lying if she’d claimed she hadn’t seen the red flags, Ivan’s steroid use growing completely out of control, cheating urine tests in order to keep juicing, growing ever bigger through the use of the banned substance. It wasn’t just his muscles and performance that had dramatically grown. So had his temper.  

Roid rage, they called it. It was never something she thought she would bear witness to, until she found herself on his kitchen floor, being throttled and punched, her only saviour her dog, the Great Dane bitch jumping on his back and sinking her teeth into the meat of his trapezius at seeing her human being so viciously beaten.  

The combined effort of a valiant rescue dog and a woman determined not to die at her fiancé's hands got him off of her, Jade grabbing Brodie’s collar and her bag as she ran from the house, dived into her car and drove away as quickly as she could.  

She never returned.  

Ivan was arrested and subsequently charged for the sickening assault that disgraced his name in the sporting world, discharged from the UFC and sent away to serve a five-year prison sentence. It was a pitiful excuse for justice, especially when he’d probably be freed after three if he behaved himself. Jade knew the outcome likely wouldn’t see him put away for any longer, as she’d been advised by her legal team prior to giving evidence at the trial. Domestic violence victims rarely did receive the adequate recompense where the punishment of their abuser was concerned.  

A victim. It was a role she’d sworn never to play, speaking on the event many months afterwards. “I am not his victim. I’m the one who had the sense to get away as soon as he raised a hand to me. There’s nothing that correlates to victimhood there.”  

Some doubted her stance, thinking her to be in denial over it, claiming she needed to seek therapy to get herself through her ordeal. In Jade’s mind, her therapy was her music, one of the tracks from her band’s seventh album, entitled Nomad, serving as cathartic release over the attack. It also got her through the passing of her beloved Brodie, the dog dying at the grand old age of eleven six months after she’d parted ways with Ivan. It was almost unheard of for the breed to reach such an age, and if Jade was thankful for anything, it was having an extra three unexpected years with her faithful old girl. 

She felt lonely if she let herself sit still for long enough, so kept busy through the machine that was her life, driving her from movie set to stage to recording studio, long hours and hard work elevating her status in both worlds, her band, Seventh Gate releasing Nomad to a huge success and taking to the road in early two thousand and nine, complete with a stint moving from one summer festival to the next.  

One such date upon that stint was the Rock and Iron show, something all the girls in the band had been looking forward to playing. It had been a longstanding one-day festival held in California for the past eleven years, the band playing it a couple of times before on the smaller stage.  

This time, though, playing the prime afternoon spot of 3pm-4pm, they walked out on the main stage at the open-air show to eighty thousand screaming rock fans, Jade feeling sick with nerves, as usual. It didn’t matter an ounce that the rock press hailed her as the first lady of metal, who praised her huge vocal range and coined her as one of the first to combine both powerful, clean vocals and blistering, guttural roars. She still felt like her legs were about to give way every time she climbed the steps and walked across the stage, ready to view her kingdom.  

Or queendom, as it was. Because to the thousands of people who cheered at the sight of her, she was their monarch. Some viewed her a little differently. 

“Oh man, there she is!” Lewis piped up, clapping his hands above his head. “There’s god!”  

Adrien turned to view him with mild incredulity, shaking his head. “Man, you’re something else with this fanboy thing you have going on.” Whatever he might have followed that with was obliterated by the noise that came from the speakers, the roar of guitars, drums like canons, and a scream that sounded like something he could only liken to a creature being spat up from hell for being too aggressive. “Damn. She’s got some pipes.”  

Lewis didn’t reply, too busy getting into the first song of their set, Adrien feeling himself furtherly crushed right up against the barrier. He was trying to have a good time, he truly was, but metal wasn’t really where it was at for him. A die-hard hip-hop connoisseur, being dragged to an open-air rock and metal festival hadn’t been his idea, but Lewis’s girlfriend had bailed on him, quite literally, ending their relationship just one month prior. Conveniently, he had a rare two weeks off work, so had allowed his friend to talk him into it.  

As his chest was shunted hard against the barrier for what felt like the four hundredth time that afternoon, he once again sorely regretted it. However, looking up at the stage, he couldn’t help but view the women performing upon it with genuine curiosity. They were perhaps the tightest in sound of anyone he’d seen that day, their energy enigmatic, especially the swagger exuded from their front woman.  

She was like a supernova personified, commanding a crowd of thousands, her presence much larger than the tall, yet slight frame it inhabited. Although the music wasn’t to his taste, he had to admit she impressed him, having the vocal range that allowed her to sing powerfully delivered harmonies one minute, and roars that sounded not of his earth the next. Her talent completely blew him away. 

Also, her adoration for her fans was clear, sending the security into a frenzy when she jumped down off the stage between songs, embracing a few people reaching for her on the front row as the next song began to filter through the wall of speakers. The crowd screamed along with the opening lyrics, Adrien watching as suddenly, the blonde whirlwind strode in his direction at speed, jumping onto the barrier, grabbing his hand, and bellowing out a scream a mere inch from his face. He laughed, Lewis nearly fainted, and Jade winked at him before she was gone again in a blink, returning to the stage.  

“Do you know how goddamned lucky you are? Dude!” Lewis yelled, mouth hanging open. “Dude! God just screamed right in your face!” 

Adrien continued to chuckle, looking up at the stage. “Yeah,” he spoke, his heart fluttering, “guess she did.” While her music mightn't have been to his taste, seeing her so close up, he had to admit the way she looked definitely was. God, she was sexy. Very, very sexy “I think she blew my fucking eardrums out!” 

Lewis was in fits at his assertion, clapping him on the back before continuing to enjoy the show. At the next break between songs, Jade found herself beckoned for by Katie, their lead guitarist, her eyes wide as she jumped up and down with her usual zany energy. “Bro! You just screamed in Adrien Brody’s face!” 

“Who?” 

“Adrien fucking Brody! The actor!” 

Jade was still none the wiser. “The hot guy with the dark hair?” 

“Yes!” 

“What’s he been in?”  

Katie could have slapped her. “Um, only your mom’s favourite movie.” 

Finally, the penny dropped. “Oh shit, the guy from The Pianist?” 

“Yes!” 

“That’s him?” 

“Yes, you massively blind douche! God damnit, you never know who anybody is!” 

Her eyes almost came out on stalks for not actually recognising him. 

“Oh my god!” Having a very large crowd to entertain, she couldn’t say anything further on the subject, but she kept her eye on him for the rest of their set, calling over one of their roadies a couple of songs later as she ran to the side of the stage to grab her flask of herbal tea. “I take it you know who Adrien Brody is, right?” she asked, letting the herbal brew sink down her throat and coat it in an effort to not feel like she’d swallowed a chainsaw. 

Sunni smirked, stroking his beard. “Yeah, boss. The guy whose face you screamed in.” 

“Give him and whoever he’s with backstage passes. I wanna meet him.” She watched as Sunni scuttled off to go and locate a few of the prized lanyards that gave people access to the coveted backstage area, before launching into the next song. Out of the corner of her eye, she was able to see Adrien and the guy with the blonde hair he was with jump the barrier, being escorted stage right to watch the remainder of their set from the wings, along with the rest of the Seventh Gate road crew.  

While there, they were approached by a woman who introduced herself as Hazel Bernstein, the tour manager for the band, asking since they were currently being filmed for a documentary about Jade’s life and career if they minded being on camera. They confirmed that no, they didn’t mind at all, Hazel having them sign a couple of release forms before another member of the crew ushered them backstage.  

The area was made up of large tents dotted around for each band to reside in before and after their performances, the guys shown in and furnished with beers as they sat down on one of the couches provided.  

Adrien looked to his side, watching Lewis as his eyes darted around. “You look edgy, man.” 

“I’m about to meet one of my favourite bands, and I don’t even have a fucking clue what the hell to say to them!” he exclaimed, gulping back his beer. 

He couldn’t help himself. “Hello might be a good place to start.” 

“Noted, Captain Sarcastic.” Looking at him, he burst into a snorting fit of laughter, wishing he had a fraction of his very famous friend’s effortless cool. Alas, he did not. The first of the women through the tent made his mouth drop open, Katie going to the cooler and pulling herself out a bottle of bourbon, emptying an eye watering amount into an ice-filled red solo cup before she came right on over.  

“Hi guys! How you doing, you having a good time? Damn, it’s fucking hot, right?” She talked rapidly, like a machine gun going off, shaking their hands with the exact same enthusiasm she spoke with, Lewis looking like he was about to burst. 

“Katie Gilmore, just coming over, shaking my hand, asking how I am, like I’m fucking anyone at all,” he spoke in a daze of disbelief, Adrien shaking his head. 

“Ignore him, he’s a little... yeah.”  

She chuckled, lifting her cup to him. “And you’re one helluva actor, my guy. I could be obvious and praise you to hell for The Pianist, because damn, that movie was outstanding, but I fucking adored you in Summer of Sam! You make a cute punk, bro!” 

“Thank you,” he smiled graciously, “and in turn, you’re a hell of a guitarist. I don’t know much about rock or metal, but you make what I guess is real difficult look incredibly easy.”  

They were then joined by the force of nature that was Jen, the band’s drummer, the tall, rail thin blonde approaching, pointing at Adrien. “Can I sit on your lap and get a picture with you, dude?”  

He smiled, patting his black denim covered thighs. “Sure, hop on.”  

“Billy!” she roared, moving to throw herself down, “get over here and do the clicky, clicky!” A man holding a professional camera ambled over, Jen smiling as she wrapped her arms around him, and then promptly licked his cheek. “Man, you taste delicious!” she shouted, Adrien laughing, a little taken aback at her brash behaviour, but somehow quite charmed all the same. “What is that?” 

“Sweat and beer,” he confirmed, Jen throwing her head back and roaring before she got up.  

“My favourite things! See you guys later, I gotta go see some other people!” Sweat and beer, also cocaine, if her eyes were anything to go by. He knew high as hell when he saw it. 

“Hey, you boys like tequila? I got a load in the cooler, let’s get some shots in, huh?” Katie spoke, grabbing a hand a piece and hauling them up. There, they were introduced to rhythm guitarist Charlotte, who was much, much quieter than the other members of the band they’d met so far, very reserved and polite. Still, Lewis was firmly stuck in starstruck mode, trying hard to find some semblance of cool, but losing it completely. 

And then she walked on over. 

“Hi,” she chirped in a voice that sounded much too sweet ever be able to conjure the ferocious roars she was famous for, Lewis looking like he was about to pass out. Jade wasn’t looking at him for long, though. “How are you?” 

“A little deaf,” Adrien admitted. 

“Sorry about that,” she cringed, laughing softly. “One hearing test owed to Adrien Brody. Noted.” Oh, she was witty. He liked witty.  

“Yeah, that’s one hell of a set of lungs you have,” he complimented, Jade moving past where her girls stood, pulling herself a bottle of water from the cooler, sinking a shot Katie thrust in her direction. 

“Mm, yeah,” she hummed quietly, unscrewing the bottle cap, cocking her head as a confident smile shined through. “I like to think so.” God, the man had the most gorgeous green eyes she’d ever seen in her life, Jade feeling herself pulled in by them, trying not to feel awkward at the fact that she was standing there talking to a man whose fame eclipsed her own in shades. She could feel her internal monologue beginning to flounder at what to say to him next, relieved when Adrien pointed to her t shirt. 

“Rough Trade, that’s about my favourite record store in all of New York. Spent entirely too much time and money in there during my youth,” he noted, Jade gesturing to the couch. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she spoke as they sat down, sipping her water. “I used to work there on a weekend before the band blew up and took off.” 

“Yeah? What part of New York did you live in? I take it from the accent that you moved over, right?” Of course, she did. Duh. He could have kicked himself, but she didn’t react in any way other than to politely answer. 

“I did. I’m from Tottenham, London, but moved over with my parents when I was thirteen. I lived in Harlem. What about you? You sound New York born and bred, and apologies if you think I might be one of those people who knows everything about you already, but I really don’t!”  

He watched the embarrassment crease her face as she cringed, reaching to gently squeeze her wrist. “No, you’re fine! God, it’s refreshing, actually, to talk to somebody who doesn’t know anything about me already!” he began, very much enjoying that she truly was a little clueless over him. It made weeding out those with a genuine interest in who he was away from his famous persona much easier. “And yeah, Queens born and bred.” 

“Do you still live there?” 

“In New York, yeah, but further north. I’ve a house in Oswego County, right out in the middle of nowhere. It’s a mess still, long term restoration project, but I like it. I like not being bothered while I’m not working. I have a place here, too, but only a rental. How about you?” 

“Couple of places,” she began, noticing the documentary guys hovering, pointing at them discreetly. “Don’t mind, do you?”  

“I don’t. Your tour manager already came and asked us.” 

She nodded, continuing. “So yeah, I have a house out in California and an apartment in the West Village. I just bought a property over in England as well, gorgeous estate in Buckinghamshire that the Laurel Canyon house is shortly being rented out to afford.” 

Rock music was lucrative, it seemed, for her to own three homes. “That’s smart, renting. You’ll get more for it long term, too. Especially with the association of living in a rock star’s house.”  

“Certain would-be renters’ll probably think I have cocaine stashed all over or something,” she snorted, “which is hilarious as I don’t do hard drugs. Used to, but it messed with my ability to perform, so I knocked it on the head.” 

He loved how candid she was, not hiding anything for appearances sake. She was also entirely too beautiful for her own good, with the prettiest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen in his life, eyes he couldn’t look away from for a second. A parade of naked women could have walked into the tent right at that moment, and he wouldn’t even have turned his head.  

They continued their talk, seemingly oblivious to the merriment going on around them, finding out tentative bits of information about one another, their families, their interests and passions. They had one in particular that surprised the hell out of him. 

“Get the fuck out of here! You’re into hip-hop?” 

“No, you get the fuck out,” she teased, gently pinching his arm as she laughed. “Yeah, I am! I’m into so much music, but growing up in the areas that I did, it was such an ingrained staple. I was the only white girl amongst all my friends and just absorbed the hip-hop culture like a sponge. I got to listen to so much in the store too. It had its perks, working at Rough Trade.  

“I still nearly died on the spot when Method Man came strolling in one day. Wu Tang had released thirty-six chambers the year before, and I couldn’t stop playing it, so yeah, I was completely dumbstruck. He walks up to the counter and I’m just like, “no way, you’re Method Man,” to which he smiled, looked at my name tag and said, “no way, you’re Jade. Whassup, girl?" We became friends, he’s such a cool guy. Comes by my place whenever he can when we’re both back in New York. I cook him pasta and he plays me new stuff he’s been working on. I got a lot of time for Clifford, he’s real straight up.” 

“Yeah, I know him a little, too. I’m more friends with RZA, though. I got into making beats in my teens and he’s acted as a mentor to me. Cool guy,” he replied casually, Jade grasping his arms and giving them a little shake. 

“You make beats?” she cried, her eyes widening, “play me something! Do you have anything on your phone?”  

He shook his head. “Nope, it’s all at home on my laptop. But I will one day, though.” She made a sad face, Adrien pulling his arms from her soft grip, linking his fingers through hers. Oh... too forward, he suddenly panicked. When her fingers squeezed his hands, he realised it wasn’t. Her lit-up face told him it wasn’t, too. God, it was like a thunderbolt had just cut through the tent and hit him square atop his head. “You’re too cute, you know that? I definitely will let you listen to some of it. I plan for us to meet up at the same time in the same place again, for sure.”  

“Not many people call me cute,” she admitted, stroking her thumbs in circles over his palms. “Lots of other things. Loud mouthed bitch, profane whore, evil cock tease, but rarely cute.” 

The way she looked at him, licking her lip, oh fuck. Yep. He sensed something quite predatory lurking beneath the surface of the quiet, charming woman he was enjoying the hell out of getting to know. What was more? He liked it. “I think the latter is probably fairly apt, isn’t it?”  

She leaned forward, her lips tickling the lobe of his ear. “Might show you one day.” His face must have said it all, betrayed the barrier he tried to rapidly build to conceal the fire she’d stoked, licking his insides in a blaze.  

Holding eye contact with her, he lifted his chin slightly, his smile growing. “Might let you.” They held each other’s gaze, almost defying the other to look away first, Jade playing with his hands, running her nails up and down his long fingers, licking her lips. Oh, she was so, so sexy. “Might just tease you back twice as bad.” 

He winked, and her stomach exploded with butterflies, dropping her gaze for a moment, her internal monologue stuck on excited screaming mode. “It’s so loud in here. Do you want to go someplace quieter?” 

“That’d be good. Is my boy gonna be alright, or are your girls gonna eat him alive?” he spoke, nodding over her shoulder, seeing Lewis looking very well settled, drinking and laughing with Katie and Charlotte. 

“Yeah, the lesbians will look after him well. They’re together, if you didn’t know. Most don’t unless you’re a fan of the band,” she spoke, Adrien only noticing it then, the understated way they had their pinky fingers linked together. Cute.   

“Ahh, he’ll know, then. Save himself the embarrassment of trying to give his usual awkward advances toward two girls who don’t bat for his team.” They got up, exiting the tent without being noticed, although Jade was called out to by a few peers and industry folks as they walked down towards where all the busses were parked a short way from the entrance to the backstage compound.  

As he walked, Adrien couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so excited to spend time with someone who wasn’t a friend or family member, the people much missed as his hectic life whirled around him. He had no idea how much time he’d have with this utterly charming woman who turned to smile at him, but god, he hoped the minutes began to tick backwards with every step he took. 

[vampire-loving-vampire]

everyday i am so thankful to have u, my sweet wife . my most beloved, the most wonderful person in the whole world. every single day i am grateful to know u. never has a day gone by since we became close that i havent needed u. u bring light to my darkest times, u bring color into my bleak reality, u show me love when i feel unlovable. u have shone the sun onto my soul and provided me with the means to grow and change shape into the person i am today and i know that i will be loved no matter how i transform, while i grow into a better person for us. i am so so thankful to have u. things havent been fair for us at all. things havent been fair for u and god i want nothing more than to be by ur side, i want to bring u breakfast when u cant get out of bed and i want to wash ur hair for u when its exhausting and i want to cook dinner for us every single night. i want to refill ur water and hold u and tell u that everything is gonna be okay. every beat of my heart is calling for u and all i want is to take care of u and make things easier . i want to show u how grateful i am to be loved so unconditionally . i want to prove to u with every breath that u are more than enough, that ur more than worthy of being loved and taken care of, that u deserve every good thing. i hope more than anything that im doing enough to show u from where we are now, in the ways that i can now. soon we can be together but for now i hope i can show u that i will be here every single day, every second of it. that u are doing enough, trying hard enough, that u are more than enough always. i hope that i can prove to u that even when it doesnt feel like it u deserve to be loved wholly and unconditionally like u do for me , that it is possible, and that i can build proof for u to look back at and trust eventually. i hope that what little i can do from all the way over here can reach ur heart well. i hope i can show u how much u are worth. i love all of u x2165. i love u i love u i love u and we will make it through. we will survive and we will make it to the good days where we will be allowed to be happy. we will get to see our little apartment filled with pictures of us and little towels ive made and a joint desk for us and all ur pens and tons of legos. soon we will hold hands and our matching rings will touch and ill hang up ur shirts and u can fold mine, i will cook and u can do dishes , we will get to watch every tv show and knit on our couch and soon i promise i will take care of u as best i can and show u how much ur worth . soon everything will be okay and in the meantime i hope i can show u what it means to be loved forever

[evvlevie]

MANIFESTATION / LUCID DREAMING / SHIFTING SUCCESS STORY!!!!

EVIE HIIII 🫶 happily entering your answering box with a success story that happened today INVOLVING the implementation of something you posted recently!!

I woke up at 6:38am this morning after lucid dreaming & making a portal to shift to my intended reality IN IT!!! IM SO SO HAPPY OML. Master shifter Master Manifestor Master Lucid dreamer‼️‼️

—————

LUCID DREAM + SHIFT TO HOME

I’ll start from yesterday + recently

The other day I read your recent post how you’ve had this little spray bottle beside your bed and before you sleep you spray it on you 4 times and say “this is my shifting spray, I will now shift tonight” and I DO have a little bottle of spray water on my bedside table I thought this was cute I should do this!! and implement it in my routine!! This was like 3 days? Ago? I did it consistently every night.

Then last night/ morning when I slept at like 2am? I felt drawn to my new dragons blood crystal I got recently, even though this Crystal I hadn’t cleansed and changed it yet, since it was the beginning of Yule as well and I’d just meditated prior I decided I’ll do a quick cleanse and charge so I can use it. I usually fall asleep holding a Crystal in either hand - one being my labradorite absolutely connected to me and one being whatever I felt drawn to. So I quickly cleansed and charged it then I sprayed my little bottle of water 4 times & said “this is my shifting spray I will now shift tonight.”

Four other things to note -

1. I have insanely impressive dream recall

2. I have briefly lucid dreamt before but not as intense/proper as this

3. Lucid dreaming method of shifting like creating a portal in your lucid dream to shift I’ve always thought was cool but never fully fully tried to do it because I’ve always believed that intent is the only thing you need to shift so just sleep with the intent to wake up whenever I’m not a big fan of “methods”

4. And finally for the last week or so I’ve begun doing reality checks every day not being phased by how fast or long I began lucid dreaming (detached from outcome like I wasn’t TRYING to lucid dream for my shifting immediately I just began doing it KNOWING that it’d happen!)

NOW we get to my dream part, I go to sleep dream and dream and dream

TW: next part mentions the term abuser

SO I was at my abusers house in the dream (whom I’ve now moved out/away from because I deserve the best!!) and they were doing a range of abusive things. I went into my room and stopped, I thought- wait I thought I already escaped them? Referring to my waking life how I HAD escaped them manifested living in a better place!! When I realised this I looked down at my hands and pushed my right hand through my left (my fav reality check) and it went through & disappeared. I then counted 4 on my left and 5 on my right

I KNEW I was dreaming. I became lucid !!! I know many people forget they want to shift when they become lucid so I was grateful that I didn’t forget and it was one of my first thoughts. To further confirm that I was dreaming I grabbed a pen and tried writing my name on my palm and it came out as a different name entirely?? Astrid. It was hard to read. Then I begun my portal moving my hands in my doctor strange type opening portal way saying “open portal to *DR NAME* open portal to my home *DR NAME*” like I practiced and I thought about how I want to try get my portal done quickly because I remembered that one story about a girl who became lucid then all these bad things started happening to her in it😭 I knew I was lucid dreaming and I knew the goal was to shift to my home!!

MY PORTAL OPENED. to some random place, I kept focusing on it and repeating “open portal to my home in *DR PLACE*” it glitched to a different place, this beautiful forest that did indeed look similar to home but there was a building with turned edges so when I awoke I believed that that was to like japan or something. I was SO SO close to shifting to my home through my lucid dream SO close. Then I woke up at 6:38am and I messaged my friend all about it immediately after it happened. I was so SO SO HAPPY.

Additionally, I explained how I held my new Crystal when I slept earlier because one of the benefits of dragons blood is massive assisting in manifesting one’s dreams / desires + opens 3rd eye + assisting in lucid dreaming & dream work WITH the combination of my labradorite’s endless assistance with raising consciousness helping with reality shifting manifesting etc etc etc. I’ve also been recently adding in “I lucid dream every night” into my affirmations lately manifesting so máster manifestor at work 😮‍💨😮‍💨‼️‼️literally manifested that instantly. (Like I always do)

SO I LUCID DREAMT. LIKE A PROPER PROPER LUCID DREAM AND I WAS A JUMP AWAY FROM HOME. A JUMP. A PORTAL A JUMP. SO INSANELY CLOSE

I had to come share it with you because I think you’ll find it interesting that I implemented what you’d begun doing with the spray and sentence intent into my routine and had success!!

Do you or do you have any post or does anyone reading this have any advice for shifting through lucid dreaming?? I honestly haven’t read much to at all about how to do it I just knew you could open portals to shift in them. I opened my portal and was repeating my intent- it looked like it was trying to get there but it was showing other places- does one just continue that? Any advice? :)

Also it shows how instant manifestation is and how I’d detached from the outcome and it came.

And if anyone is reading this needing motivation “your actions today create tomorrow’s future” you can literally have anything and be anything you want, it’s all going to work out I promise!!

ANYWAY THATS ALL

❤️‍🔥YOU EVIE

Xoxo

- Master Manifestor, Reality shifter & Lucid Dreamer of the multiverse.

HIIIIII ❣️❣️❣️

I AM SO STOKED FOR YOU !!!!!!

I am so happy that my „routine“ inspired you, and that you got so incredibly close to shifting 😻😻😻

unfortunately I have zero experience when it comes to shifting through lucid dreaming, especially because usually when I become aware that I am dreaming I automatically wake up, so it‘s definitely not my method of choice.

I am glad tho, to see that my message, that you manifest as soon as you just let the universe do its thing, has helped you on this journey ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so so so much for your story, and happy shifting 😽❤️

yours in every reality,

Evie <3

[ilyconnie]

zari baby's bday event! @yourrfavzxri

“maybe we could go get coffee…tomorrow?” “yeah, i’d like that.” “you would?!? uh- i mean great, i’ll text you the details.”

levi x fem blk!reader (just a smidge ooc)

ahhh omgg im so honored to be in zari bae's prompt event!! happy birthday mami!! i hope you have an amazing birthday & that you enjoy this!! sol <3s you

levi was the famous ta (teacher's assistant) for your 12:30pm monday, wednesday, friday class on politics and government. he'd caught every girl's eye in the class he even had to sit in the back so they'd pay attention. even though he'd never admit it to anyone but himself, he didn't mind sitting in the back.. cause that's where you happened to sit.

somehow, he always seemed a bit distant..but close at the same time. he would never go out of his way to speak to you (he barely spoke unless through email in your class anyway but yk), but even while he never approached you, his "unassigned assigned" seat was conveniently placed diagonally behind you.

he'd peek over onto your computer to see your notes and make sure you didn't fall behind, when he handed out the scantron bubble tests your professor would assign he'd take his time to personally hand you yours with a quiet almost nonexistent "good luck" to go along with it.

he never directly spoke to you besides you consistently asking him if he happened to have a pen or a spare highlighter so you could annotate your textbook in class. and even then, he never really said anything.. just a quick nod and then he'd rummage through his bag and hand you what you asked for. he even found himself putting together a personal area in his bag just for pens and highlighters and sticky notes for when he knew he'd see you.

even with all this aside, he was never the type to go and approach a girl to ask her out, but he knew with the semester ending if he didn't act now, when was the next time he'd see you? he had to make a move before it was too late and he was just some ta you had for some politics class.

so he mustered up the courage one day to catch you on your way out from class. you were dressed up all cute, like always, and he decided today was the day.

during his normal peek over to you, around the end of class, he leaned a bit over his table and said in his most confident voice he could do.

"hey y/n?"

turning over your shoulder, a bit surprised since this is the first time he'd ever addressed you, let alone used your name. (you lowkey assumed he didn't know it LMAOO).

"hm? yes? did you need something? i have an extra pen if you need it?"

he lightly breathed out in a way that could be perceived as a laugh.. for him i guess.

"oh no.. i didn't need anything.. i was just thinking.. maybe we could go get coffee…tomorrow?”

even while taken aback a bit, you immediately responded, “yeah, i’d like that.” because not only was this THEEE famous ta of your class, but he'd also never spoken to you in a way that wasn't initiated by you first. you'd be lying if you said you weren't attracted to him, and you'd be lying even more if you said this wasn't something you'd at least wanna try

somehow he was even more shocked than you were, “you would?!? uh- i mean great, i’ll text you the details.”

"how are you going to text me when you don't even have my number? you gonna email the details to me?" joking lightly you giggled at the idea of your ta emailing you the specifics of this.. date? yeah i guess it was a date

"i could if that's what you want?"

"here ill give you my number.. actually do you have a sticky note i can write it on?"

[tomboyyyaoi]

i literally cant even begin to tell u how much despair this creative rut has me in, every time i try to draw i start crying, i cant do it, i cant do it and it makes me so fucking depressed, its all i want to do i love art it makes me so happy and i cant fucking do it, i havent been able to do it for so long and today i broke the pen for the tablet ive used for 8 years coz im such a childish brat that i cant regulate my emotions when i dont get my way, i dont know what happened i dont know whats wrong with me, i dont know what suddenly changed so much that i cant do the thing i love anymore and im so scared that this is just it, that its over, that i just wont make it out of this one coz i cant seem to shake it off coz i dont have the fucking time anymore, its got me so fucking depressed all i do is go to work then come home and rot, i have no way of expressing myself right now and its bringing me so much rage and insecurity im so fucking angry at myself i hate the way i am i hate the way my emotions are now i hate that i dont see myself leaving this feeling anytime soon